Monthly Archives: May 2012

Whiteness and Burp-ifer

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Every so often, Sweetboy will bust a gut laughing over some inside joke that leaves him breathless with All The Guffawing.  We will ask him what tickles his funnybone so, and 9 times out of 10, it’s something we couldn’t have guessed at in a zillion years.  The following is a bit of a “case in point”. While Sweetgirl has been down for the count around here, we’ve been watching a lot of “Kipper“.  Kipper the Dog. (If you know the show, then I apologize, because you now have the theme song stuck in your head.  I hope it goes away before next week. Do NOT keep me posted…) Sweetboy used to watch this over and over when he was about her age.  Funny how familial history tends to repeat itself, isn’t it?  Sweetboy was laying sitting in a dining room chair, enjoying a snack after school when he bust out laughing.  No precipitous event.  No one else was even present.  I asked the million dollar question.

Mama – “What’s got you so laughy over there?”

Sweetboy – “Kipper lives in whiteness.”, followed by Much Hysterical Laughter.

Now, I’m not sure why that’s so stinkin’ funny. But, to him?  It is.  Oh, how it is.

In other comic news, sometimes, Sweetman will say something seemingly innocuous that will tickle the pee right out the Sweetchildrens’ funny bones.  If funnybones had pee. Which, they don’t.  Just to clarify.  Sweetman likes to play a little game with the kids whenever they are in the throes of a tantrum on a bonzai pipeline straight to meltdown mode called, “The Stuffed Animal Can Fly Through the Air”.  I’d explain how we he came up with this rousing game, but I don’t want to bore you to tears.  If I haven’t already…

Moving on, Sweetdaddy took one of Sweetgirl’s stuffed animals and threw it across the room singing “She can fly, she can fly, she can fly.”  Yes, from Peter Pan. I hope I’ve mentioned before how we put pretty much everything to song around here?  Sweetboy started laughing. Sweetgirl demanded that Sweetdaddy “NOT throw my brpahidfiear!”.  If you can read that word I just attempted to write, then you understand her language.  Because we?  We could not.  So, Sweetman took a stab at the name she had attached to this poor critter.

Sweetman – “You mean, Burp-ifer?”

Sweetchildren – (In full throttle pee-your-pants laughter on the floor) “No!!!!”

And thus, the legend of “Burp-ifer”, The Flying Hamster, was born.  Of course, Sweetdaddy that he is, he took this as license to interject the name “Burp-ifer” at every stinkin’ opportunity over the course of the day.  Because.  Because, seeing our children laugh so hard they can barely catch their breath before they pee their pants is a joy doubled.  It’s a gift, I tell ya.  Especially when I don’t have to clean up afterwards.  Indeed.

A Few Great Things (And a Note To Self)

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I’m no shopping expert.  In fact, I think we pretty well covered that last week.  However, I’ve come across some great things in the last couple of days.  With Sweetgirl home sick with a fever, there have been a few times that Sweetman has begged me let me skip out of the house on an errand to “blow the stink off me” (as my G Gma used to say). Here’s what I’ve found: (Don’t judge me for #2. It’s a staple in this house and I stand by it.)

1) At Walgreens this morning picking up some cough medicine for… Everyone In This House, I had to walk down the shampoo aisle. Yes, I had to.  God gave me the “I Care About My Hair” gene.  It doesn’t do me much good in the humidity, but I’ve still got the gene. Anyhoo, I discovered that my new favorite shampoo & conditioner, by Organix,  is buy one get one free!!  This made my breath catch.  Seriously.  I never seem to find “the bargain”.  Check out the Walgreens Circular because this one is sweet.

2) Both of my picky eaters in the house will devour Lucky Charms cereal pretty much any hour of the day.  It’s my go to food for breakfast, snacks, long car-ride food, etc.  Target’s Market Pantry version is just as “magically delicious” and a whole lot cheaper!  Find it here.

3) My new favorite lip balm is by Carmex. It’s called “Moisture Plus”.  It is veritable perfection for lips. My lips can’t stand anything waxy getting near them.  They’ve told me so, I promise.  And, come to think of it, that might explain why they scream whenever the poor dear at the salon comes near me to de-fuzz them.

4) As a Diet Dr. Pepper fanatic fan, I discovered this past weekend that our local grocery store had 12 packs on sale: 3 for $10.00.  I don’t know if my fellow diet soda drinkers out there have noticed, but it’s been costing $3.99, lately, for a 12 pack.  At least, it has up here in New England. A dollar saved is one more dollar toward The Mouse, you know.

And, there you have it.

Now, a note to self… Sitting cross-legged with your computer on your lap, no matter how comfy the chair underneath the tush, makes for very crampy legs.  I’m off to walk out the cramps on my way to the fridge for a Diet Dr. Pepper.  Happy Shopping!

This, That, and The Other

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This weekend continues to be a weekend of celebration! A no-school Friday meant for a very happy Sweetboy.  And a brother at home all day, made for a very happy Sweetgirl.  So, in an effort to thrill everyone with our glamorous life, here’s what we’ve been up to…

A bit of this (because, first and foremost, sissy LOVES to do this when brother is home):

A bit of that (because, left to our own devices while mama grabs a coffee, that is how it all goes down):

And, a bit of the other (because, as we all know, a rousing game of Chutes and Ladders does everyone a world of good! Especiall when you combine it with the Honey Bee Tree game and a Cinderella Shoe.  You weren’t aware?  Consider yourself informed…):

But today?  Today, we celebrate this:

Because he is! And we realize more and more every year how blessed we’ve been by his entry into our world.  Thank you God for Sweetboy!

Getting Fleeced by The Mouse

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Surfing the World Wide Web for deals on a Disney World vacation is like searching for a needle in the proverbial haystack.  Each time I find a site that seems valid on the surface, it’s like disappearing down a rabbit hole once you start trying to maneuver through.  It doesn’t help that Sweetman keeps asking me if we’ve got the details hammered out yet?  And by we, he means me!  He’s affectionately referring to the trip as getting “fleeced by the Mouse”.  Indeed.  This is a trip that is not for the faint of pocketbook.   The more I find out, the more I don’t want to find out.  Want to have tea with the Princesses?  Why, yes. Yes we do!  No problem.  Just fork over a quarter of your life savings.  It doesn’t help that we went almost 3 years ago on Captain Ahab and The Nana’s dime.  They were generous.  Unfortunately, Sweetboy has the mind of a steel trap. Therefore, he remembers every little detail of that trip like it happened yesterday.  That mind of his truly is a blessing and a curse!

However, in an effort to keep moving forward with the plan (and in her effort to ensure we would, indeed, still be coming down there to spend Christmas with her)  I was handed a little help in the form of information by The Nana recently.  She sent me a somewhat recent-ish article out of the Sun Sentinel. It was written by Sally Deneen in her column “Cutting Corners”. There is apparently a website named “Mousesavers“.  And what The Nana must have missed in the column is that there aren’t too many breaks out there this year.  According to Deneen, even Floridian residents will have to “make do with resident discounts this year.”  Great.

A further search revealed that our desire to stay in one of the on-site hotels that are close to the Magic Kingdom will require the forking over of some major hogs!  The use of AAA discount would help a ton, if we weren’t going down just in December! And though we’ve been saving with this goal in mind for well over a year, it hurts my head to look at the price tag.  It’s almost like getting a bad case of “buyer’s regret”; only, we haven’t even officially bought anything yet! It’s a good thing that Mouse is so stinkin’ cute. And fun. And Magical…

I will persist, though.  Because everyone deserves get fleeced by The Mouse at least one or four times in their lives. Yes indeedy! And having grown up down there, I know it’s worth every penny.  Having lived in New England for so long, maybe I’m just not looking in the right places?  So, on that note, do any of you have tried and true advice?

A Small Pronouncement

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Announcement: Sweetgirl has just walked into the kitchen with pouty face fixed firmly in place and arms crossed and folded across the front of her body with an announcement.  Or, rather, a pronouncement…

Sweetgirl: “Mama, I’m angry!”

Mama:  “Oh?  What are you angry about?”

Sweetgirl:  “I’m angry at brother!”  (Sweetboy went to his first ever sleepover last night.  This was sissy’s first morning to wake up and not have a minnion buddy to help her pass the time before I made it downstairs.)

Mama:  “Why are you angry at brother?”

Sweetgirl:  “I don’t want him no more.”

And there you have it.  A pronouncement indeed!

Out of Breath

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We are literally trying to catch our breath around here.  Me? Figuratively.  Sweetboy? Literally.  He’s been having lots of “fuzzy” chest feelings this past week and a half.  We attributed it to a cold that went straight to the chest.  Today I took him in to see the doctor that sees us for his asthma and allergies because we’ve nebulized this poor kid more in the past week than we have in the last 5 years! And that’s no joke.  Something’s up.

After using the “old-fashioned” peak flow meter and the “computerized” peak flow meter,another peak flow meter.  The good doctor had to leave a moment to get another peak flow meter.  Apparently, we hadn’t done enough measuring the first two times.  He determined that Sweetboy’s lungs are only operating at 70% capacity and that the number he was seeing was far below what would be expected.  He proceeded to write one prescription for immediate use of a prednisone and another one for an antibiotic to knock out the bronchial infection. He informed us that the antibiotic was “super-strong” and might make Sweetboy’s stomach nauseous.  Great.  We just can not escape the pukes around here.

After telling the doctor what bad timing this was (his birthday is this weekend and he was supposed to attend his first ever sleep-over!), the doctor informed him that he couldn’t do the sleep-over, no way, no how!  When I tell you that histrionics ensued, I’m not even slightly exaggerating.  Sara Bernhardt ain’t got nothin’ on my guy.  I took a deep breath and tried to calm him down while the doc disappeared for a moment.  Probably to avoid the massive dramatic encounter going on in room whatever-number-we-were-in.

When the doctor re-entered the room, I begged asked calmly, so as not to revive the histrionics, if there was any way he could attend the overnight since it was only a few doors down.  He replied with a “use your judgement” comment.  Dear John!  Really? I get to have the honor of deciding whether my child attends his first ever sleep-over or not. On his birthday weekend. Word. Of. Mercy.  The sheer weight of the decision left me breathless.  (Guess we know where he gets his proclivity for drama…)

I talked it over with Sweetman and we decided to let him go.  We sent him off on a wing and a prayer; and although we may be out of breath running over there a little later on tonight, we figure it’s good to get winded now and again.  Yes indeedy!

Let’s Talk Shop

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I’ve never liked shopping.  There, I said it.  It’s one of those dirty little secrets that I keep under wraps whenever other women start talking “shop”.  The Nana will have you know that I most certainly can NOT be her daughter based on that fact alone. That sweet woman could out-shop Rachel Zoe any day of the week.  Now, give me a couple of days hours to surf the internet, and all of a sudden, I am a shopper-extraordinaire!  But, the malls?  No way, no how.   The mere thought of a trip to the mall used to make me break out in hives.  Upon arrival, I required an immediate stop at the hot pretzel place for sustenance throughout the ordeal and the reward of a cookie the size of my head for surviving it all, on the way out.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I realized something on a necessary pit stop to the mall today.  I had one item on my agenda.  However, I found myself looking at All The Pretty Things on my way to the one particular store and enjoying the looking.  Enjoying. The. Looking!  Why, I even think I had a fleeting thought along the lines of,  “I wonder when I could come back and do this again?”!  I’d like to be all noble and say that I had far better things to do than be attracted by All The Pretty Things surrounding me.  I’d like to say that I felt slightly ashamed to be frittering away a few hours looking All The Pretty Things.  But I can’t. And, I’m not. And Heaven help me, I want to do it again! And soon.

Please, for the love of all that’s good and right with my world, don’t tell The Nana!  We’re headed down there in a few weeks and, Sweet Moses, if she gets a hold of this information, she will drag my newly minted shop-loving self to every shopping establishment in the greater South Florida area.  Have you seen the size of some of those things?  Oh. My. Word.  I think hives are coming back.  Baby steps, people.  Baby steps. Oh, yes indeed.

Losing My Marbles

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“Why I’ll moiduh dat bugle-ah!” – Bugs Bunny

Please, don’t misunderstand me.  I have no intention of actually “moidering” anyone in this household.  How-some-ever, if mama doesn’t get to sleep past 5:45 a.m. at least one morning this week, that stash of dark chocolate I keep hidden away is going to meet a very untimely demise.  It seems that most mornings, lately, start with me feeling this way.  And I don’t like it one bit, thank-you-very-much.  So, what do all of you who have early risers do to get them to stay in their rooms?  Or don’t you?  And how do you cope if you are all up early? I desperately need some ideas.  We’ve tried the clock.  The light blocking shades.  The lock on the outside of the door.  The bribery. The consequences.  The consistency.  The random.  Help!

And it does not go well from there.  For anyone.  Striving to dole out grace to a marker stained set of four-year old hands an hour later is difficult.  Realizing that the stench emanating from the front foyer is the bag of Sweetdog’s poop that didn’t miraculously make its own way out to the garage trash can at 7 a.m. stinks.  Literally and figuratively.  A coffee maker that has no caffeinated coffee left, followed by an attempt  by one non-professional wiper to go potty and then, “Look! I wiped by myself!  I only got a little bit!”, all makes for so much trauma in the morning.

But the sun is shining.  And although I feel a little squint-y from so much sunshine, it’ll be okay.  We’re visiting with some precious sweetfriends here in just a bit. And, there’s a coffee shop drive-thru on the way to ballet.  And I intend to “moiduh” that cup of coffee in short order.  Just as soon as I throw away the dog poop.

Traveling Home

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“Where we love is home-home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.”  Oliver Wendell Holmes

I’ve been thinking about “home” a lot lately. I’m not entirely certain why.  Or which “home” I’m longing for.  My physical one down in sunny F.L.A.  Or my spiritual one in Heaven.  Maybe a little of both.  And, I surely hope that there is LOTS of sunshine and sand in Heaven.  But that’s another post for another day… One of my new favorite blogs is here. Her blog name really speaks to me. It reminds me that we are all just travelers, whether our journey is from the South to the North or from now to then.  And I appreciate those reminders.  It’s so easy to get stuck in a rut, or worse,  fall into a ditch along the way from here to there, isn’t it?

My Sweetchildren don’t yet know what it means to be travelers along the road of this life, other than their flights down to Florida to see The Nana and Captain Ahab.  Some of that is because of my Sweetboy’s limited ability (for a time!) to see beyond the “now”.  And some of it is because his sister is… well… four.  But, I want them to know that they are travelers in this life. I want them to find joy in the journey.  I want them to carve out a sense of purpose for their lives here and now.  I desperately want them to travel this life with as little baggage as possible.  And I want them to know that “wherever they go, there they are.“  And how to “bloom where they’re planted“. And all those good thangs!

But most of all, I want them to yearn for “home”.  And if we are so blessed, may our children’s idea of “home” be wherever we are, while still alive and breathing.  And where we finally will be when we’re not.  Yes indeedy.

Migraine For Mother

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A great time was had by all.  All weekend long, while visiting a couple of states south with my brother and sister-in-law, and their children (the cousins), and The Gammy and The Grampa, I kept marveling at the fact that I am blessed beyond measure to be married into this family.  Like all families, we do indeed have our “moments” here and there (C’mon, who doesn’t?!?); but it all seems to be blatantly covered in So Much Grace.  I felt that this weekend.  It was a gift. Between the birthday celebrations, the Mother’s Day Extravaganza, and the late night talks about life and parenting, my heart was ready to burst with all of the love that God has poured into me for each of these family members!

On the 4 hour car ride home,  Sweetman and I talked about how thankful we are.  And he reminded me about the hundred and one reasons that he loves my family so much, too.  And how excited he is to see them this summer. And I started to sing ‘Can You Feel The Love Tonight’ from the “Lion King” in my head.  Because, I could!  I really could!  It was like a great big ‘pollyanna’ cloud of love just enveloped me as I sat in that car and thought about how precious each and every family member is to me. His. Mine. Ours.

And I would have stayed in that cloud, had a little voice not piped up from the back forty declaring that “I. Need. To. Go. Potty! NOW!!!”.  Moment over, Sweetman pulled over quick as spit onto the side of a very noisy interstate.  She and I hopped out to use the “special pink travel potty” stashed in the trunk of the car.  Sweet mercy, I’ve never been so thankful for one of those things.  As she was conducting business and cars are roaring by and I can barely hear myself think over the Ever So Loud Noises and the whoosh of cars whizzing by, Sweetman shouts, “LOOK BEHIND YOU!”.   So, I did.

An oh-s0-speedy Highway Service Patrol truck had pulled up (out of nowhere and quite quickly, might I add) to see if we needed help there on the side of the road.  How kind.  I waved him off with a hearty thumbs up.  And sweet girl stood up, buck nekid from the waist down, to “help” give him her own hearty thumbs up.  And I have never thrown underwear on a moving 4 year old so quickly in my life!

The harrowing experience behind us, my brain must have decided that I’d had enough thrills and love-talk, because I received another gift shortly there-after. A migraine.  I could have done without that gift. But the rest of the weekend, I couldn’t have done without.  So, if that’s what brought on the migraine for mother, bring it!  Yes indeedy.