11.18.2009

Thankful

One of the fun things about Thanksgiving (aside from all the pie) is the various lists that kids are encouraged to make as part of educational activities. Last year, if you recall, Boxer's list included:

  • Turkey
  • Toast
  • Sandwiches
  • Ham

Clearly I had more work to do in the Laying On Of Maternal Guilt For Nurturing Him For Nine Months. I am pleased to report that my campaign worked and I am on The List! We received this year's Thankful Report (in the form of a tree with leaves of various things he's thankful for written on them), and the list includes (in no particular order):

  • God
  • Jesus
  • Mom (yay me!)
  • His cat
  • Grandparents

Mildly troubling: I'm not sure which cat he's thankful for (although I'm pretty sure it's Zoom as she plays with him*). Also: no love for Brief. Unless he's pulling double duty as the Holy Father? And not surprising that Pesky Little Sisters are not included on the list either.

Also? Ham? Is DEAD to him. Suck it sandwiches! You are OUT and the baby Jeebus is IN!

*And now for a random product plug that I couldn't figure out how to fit in anywhere else. Boxer received a Zoom-O Disk Launcher as a birthday present a couple years ago and he LOVES it. And even better, the cats LOVE it. And unlike the laser pen, it's one toy they can both play with without burning a retina out. So seriously, if you have kids and cats, try it- the kids launch the disks and the chase them. Both kids and cats stay out of your hair (and lap) for a good 15 minutes. But be prepared to make frequent checks under the stove and couch for the disks where the cats inevitably shove them, or buy extra disks.

11.17.2009

Oy.

Warning: Vomit Ahead. Someone should have put that sign up after dinner last night.

I really wish I didn't know the answer to the question I posed on Twitter last night. In case you missed it, the question is "How many steps can a child hit if they vomit from the top of the stairs with a 6' tall man in the way?" Other factors worth knowing: The man's hands were cupped to catch the, er, "results", and yes, it overflowed like that stupid spit-up tray the phlebotomist gave me to throw up in during the blood draw for my glucose tolerance test when I was pregnant with the same stair-spewing child. And yes, I never saw that guy again. I'm pretty sure he had to throw away his shoes.

Fortunately, Boxer's gagging was due to excessive coughing and not a horrible nauseousness that accompanies The Hamthrax. This same gag reflex is a remnant of the reflux he suffered from as a newborn. So, you know, still getting kicked in the pants almost 6 years later from that newborn infant stuff. Good times!

Anyway, he spent the day alternately camped out in the recliner under a blanket watching brain rotting cartoon violence like Tom & Jerry and the Pink Panther. Either that or playing Heavy Weapon online and shooting down planes. I told a co-worker today that I'll have to pay special attention to any anvil deliveries to my house, or "X"s I see drawn on the floor.

By 4pm, boredom had official set in while illness had receded slightly and he was hanging on the side of my chair asking what I was doing talking on the phone. I was, in fact, talking to my boss while sending her animated gifs that I felt best represent the travesty of a project I've been working on. The train wreck one was my first choice, but in the end we resorted to the kitten shooting the machine gun.

So, yeah, that's me, setting a good example for today's youth. Now go shoot some airplanes or something, kid.

11.12.2009

I Swear I Just Found All These Things in the Couch Cushions

Honestly, I was looking for the DVD remote that's been missing for a couple months, but instead I found this treasure trove:
  • A pair of panties (Bloomer's, fortunately)
  • A toy missile from a Storm Trooper Skimmer Sled, as seen on the planet of Endor
  • A Star Wars trading card commemorating the first attack on the Death Star (original to my childhood, circa 1978)
  • A magnet from a Magna-Doodle
  • A blue poker chip
  • A set of car keys that have been missing since just after Bloomer was born.
The car keys made me laugh out loud. Not a bad haul, frankly, but still no remote.

11.11.2009

Kids Make the Darndest Facial Expressions

So I got my hair cut today. Typically I get that done every 7 weeks or so, as I wake up around week 6 still loving the style and keeping it under control with the larger brush, and then on week 7 I feel as if I could be doing a decent impression of Billy Ray Cyrus telling people about my heart, it is achy and breaky. And apparently since my stylist has been learning some new techniques and such, I now have what is known as a "hairstyle" instead of "something that just keeps all that out of my eyes". She's still trying to convince me to get a flat iron, but we'll have to see about that.

To be honest I was a bit unsure of the new 'do and my immediate reaction was to convince the Jonas Brothers never to hook up with Humpty Dumpty, because surely their love child would have THIS hair style. It's definitely flatter, which makes the 80's diehard in me die a little. It also feels... rounder. And more in-my-face (and conversely, less in-YOUR-face, apparently). But it's grown on me. At least, it's grown on me since the kids went to bed and I can have an uninfluenced examination of it.

You see, I went to pick up Bloomer first (who, to totally brag, had such an awesome day that she got to the treasure box for a special treat. She's now sleeping with her prize rocket in her bed.) (P.S. - kids are weird! Maybe I'll sleep with that new thread I picked up that I love!). The grown-ups I ran into (including her teacher) all said, "Oooooh! New haircut! I like it!" And Bloomer's teacher is kinda sassy, which we totally pink-fuzzy-heart, but she also got a new hair style the other week and Bloomer's immediate reaction was like this: Stare. Point. "What happened to your hair?" And Ms. T rolled with it and said, "I know! I'm not sure if I like it but I'm going to try it for a while."

So I sort of knew what to expect out of Bloomer. What I underestimated, however, was her capacity for rapid changes in facial expression, which was just the buttercream frosting on the honesty cupcake. She saw me, then squinted, pointed, smiled, grimaced, smized, gaped, and pointed again and said, "What's up with your head!?!" Her gaze was so magnetically drawn to my head that she almost ran into the doorway.

Uh, yeah. We're signing that one up for charm school.

Boxer was not much different, although apparently doesn't have the range that Bloomer does, and stuck with the classic Charlie Brown-hunched-over-mouth-agape-hands-splayed-Christmas-tree-sighting. Then he pointed and said, "Your hair!" Poor child couldn't even form a complete sentence.

And then... there's Brief. Brief, who usually remembers that I'm getting my hair cut right after he sees me with a short 'do. And hey, I don't expect him to keep up with my beauty regime and schedule, so it doesn't really bother me. But today, wow. He saw me and said, "Your hair. It was cut. Did I know that?"

How do you even respond to that? Is that a regular question, rhetorical question, or ass-kick-worthy question? After a few minutes, he did say, "I like it." Of course, he said this from another room where perhaps he was going through a variety of facial expressions that rivaled not only Bloomer's but also a very expressive mime.

So, I give you my hair (and there was tons of it left on the salon floor, so you are free to take even more). Apparently I am incapable of smiling while attempting to take my own picture while hiding in the bathroom with this new style. My hair apparently also now has the power to remove verbs from people's vocabulary. I will attempt to wield it appropriately, but can make no guarantees that I can harness its power.

11.06.2009

Good Days

After a rough day on Monday (after which I had to administer the punishment, which is atypical), Bloomer has had a good week for the first time in a long time. It is either attributed to:
  1. Me having to administer punishment on Monday which is particular brutal since I get upset when I have to do it
  2. Brief telling her teacher to tell Bloomer that she's going to let Daddy know when she is starting to act up OR
  3. The Dress Correlation Theory, wherein she is good on days she wears twirly dresses

Then there's the more likely "Even Monkeys Learn" theory, which says that yes, if monkeys can learn something, so can a child (or any adult, for that matter). But, as the theory of evolution glosses over, it's not like one day, a new kind of monkey was born that was actual a human who started the original teenage trend of being embarrassed by your parents (who were MONKEYS).

So I figured it wouldn't hurt to build up the stash of dresses, just in case that monkey thing falls through. Here's today's offering:

PONIES! I'm sure my mom will attest to my love of all things My Little Pony in my childhood. Between the Ponies, the pink, and the twirliness, this is just about the perfect dress.

I also made one out of Finding Nemo fabric which is currently in the laundry. I have Paddington Bear fabric queued up for the next one, too, and a couple non-character ones that match leggings I got at a consignment sale. After I get quilting, that is. Two new dresses will have to tide her over for a bit.

11.05.2009

Mom & Dad's Quilt: Progress Report #5, "There, I Fixed It"

There are times in my life when I appreciate my experience for the skills it has given me. Being a math nerd. Loving a good spreadsheet. Being handy with power tools. Becoming more adventurous with cooking. Sewing.

I've already demonstrated the combination of spreadsheets and sewing in this quilt project. And so, when contemplating a way to make the free-motion quilting easier for this king-sized quilt, I had to draw on lots of those other skills. It started with this little adaptation from a couple months ago:

This simply extends the base of the sewing machine level with the throat plate so there's not a lot of drag from the part of the quilt you're not sewing on. Which is great for smaller quilts, but not terribly helpful for a kind-sized quilt. We made it with a couple laminate shelves with 1 1/4" dowel rods for legs with rubber stops screwed into the bottom. Typically to buy an extension table like this is $200. I think we spent $25 on this.

Side note: That is an architect's scale in the pencil trough of the drafting table I use as a sewing table. And no, it's not easy to explain to a five year old how it works. Mostly it's used to push Matchbox cars out from under that car, and I guess that's all a five year old needs to know about it right now.

So overcoming the problem of the What To Do with the Rest of the King-Sized Quilt, I drew on all those skills. And in the immortal words of teh interwebs, "There, I Fixed It." (this website is an awesome testament to just about every senior project I saw at Georgia Tech's engineering school)

Yes. That is a card table. Elevated on cans of tuna, corn, and beans (and two cat food tins as well). With a piece of plywood clamped to the side to prevent the quilt from falling on the floor.

Also worth noting: the round cat bed under the table is eschewed in lieu of the crate right next to it. Cats are weird. Neither bed has been slept in since this kludge-fest, which may also be a testament to how intelligent cats are.

I'm pretty sure that is the pinnacle of all things I can achieve in my life. Until I learn how to use a blow-torch, that is.

11.02.2009

Decade

Ten years ago, I was in the throes of working full time, starting graduate school, planning my wedding, sewing my wedding dress, and organizing the annual silent auction for Good Mews. And then it all stopped.

Only it didn't stop. All that crap kept going on while my mom laid in a hospital, lucky to be alive after her car got crushed by a tractor trailer and the rescue workers had to peel it open like a tin of sardines to get her out.

A lot has happened in that ten years. Marriage. Births. Death. Psychiatry. Really, really bad cooking. A penchant for too much honesty on the internet. Convincing my mom it's a good idea anyway. Laughter.

And so, no matter how shitty a day I've had or how much the kids might have misbehaved, I know that I can still call her at the end of the day. And for that I am grateful.

Wear your seatbelt. Hug your mom.