Saturday, November 28, 2009
Here is what I found:
A broken pearl hair clip
Twenty assorted Legos
Four M&Ms (red, green, and two yellow).
Anabel’s old dog license
A red doll shoe
A small blue ball
A velvet button
A pony bead bracelet
A bevy of broken Crayons
A black checker
Mr Potato Head’s yellow glasses
A small pink Cinderella hand mirror
Instructions for our new phone
A sheet of pirate stickers
A large plastic green bug
A chartreuse sock
A small sized M&M wrapper
A Buzz Light Year Pez dispenser
A quarter, dime, and seven pennies
About two cups of popcorn and a tablespoon of kernels
It is so refreshing to see that all of my hard work and constant nagging has had so little effect on my children. Perhaps I should hot clue the couch cushions on to the base? Or I could hot glue the kids into the play room?
Now the morning after Thanksgiving with good fresh pie in the fridge I am supposed to pout into the cold and rain and spend the day Christmas shopping? Seriously? What about simply enjoying where we are? Just being in the moment, slowing down and being with friends and family? More importantly what about the pie? What about my turkey sandwich? What happened to sitting at home eating leftovers while watching movies or even football as a family? Isn’t that the true meaning of Thanksgiving? Isn’t it?
My original idea was that the kids, Dave and I would get up this morning and have a family day. Perhaps we’d meet up with the cousins and other family that came down for the Holiday? Perhaps we’d go to a friend’s house and spend the day hanging out while the kids play.
Well today did not turn out like the Norman Rockwell illustration that I had in my head. As it turns out Dave had to go to work today. Also our extended family went back to their homes in New Hampshire, Maine, and Connecticut last night after supper. So this morning I started calling my friends…they were all out shopping. My friends are all bargain hunters like me. Hmmm…I like shopping. I like saving money. Maybe the kids and I could just run out to one store and then have family time after? Just for one hour? Hey, we can have family time while shopping.
“Kids! Kids! Get in the car! Kids!”
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Not my daughter, she has attached her stubborn brain to the idea of wearing a Disney princess’s spaghetti strap tank top and shorts pajama set. You know my Alice so of course the set doesn’t match. She must have been rummaging under her bed at night and got into the summer clothing box, liberating two pieces from two different set. She went to bed in warm flannel on a cold Fall night and woke up dressed for fun in the summer sun. Too bad that the temperature was 46 degrees and the sun was hiding behind gray clouds.
Let me get one thing straight. Ever since he was a baby Dylan has worn everything that I have ever handed to him. Half the time he doesn't even look at the outfit. He just throws it on and goes on with his life. Not my Alice, yesterday morning after a terrible 35 minute skirmish that left her in tears and left me with disturbing thoughts about duct tape, we came to a compromise. She would wear long plants and the tank top only under a fleece hoodie. Of course the second we stepped into her preschool building she unzipped the hoodie and flung it in her cubby. I should have brought along the duct tape.
No matter what I tried, threatened, bribed, or begged, the hoodie never went back on. The worst was later that day when we went to pick up Dylan at school. I was expecting the usual covert whispering and gossiping that we moms do about each other. Oh come on you do this too. Well there was none, no on this special day, some of the other mom’s were overtly pointing at Alice while they chattered, no doubt, about my deficient parenting skills. Not my friends, they would never point at my daughter; anyway they were all too busy laughing to point. Don’t worry they were all laughing with me; they know my Alice is eccentric, after all the Cracker Jack doesn’t fall far from the box.
I was hoping that this clothing battle was an isolated incident until I tried to dress her this morning. She insisted upon wearing both the shorts and the tank top, now soiled from the day before. Anyways I didn’t have time for a knock down dirty brawl this morning, so I decide that she should learn from natural consequences. If she leaves the house in her skimpy thin outfit she will be freezing cold and have to change. Right? Wrong! The girl is part polar bear. I know I have felt her claws. Wouldn’t you know she wore that horrible little outfit all morning and afternoon? She even went to ballet class in it. Hef is back. Back with a vengeance and apparently the cold blood of a reptile.
I have to end this problem tonight or Thanksgiving is going to be impossible. We are going to Dave’s prim and proper Grandparent’s house. Yes, he still has a set of living grandparents. They are both in their nineties and require the highest level of respect and good manners. They would not understand their only great-grand daughter showing up to a special occasion stained and scantily clad. If we were going to my mom’s house wearing your PJs would be fine, heck, a lot of us would end up in pajamas before pie. In my mom’s family growing up with seven kids there was little time for my Nana to worry about proper etiquette. When my mom was a girl Nana used to always wash the dinner forks so they could reuse them for dessert. When my husband’s mom was a girl the maid brought out sterling silver finger bowls before dessert. Do you know what this means? That I am going to have to strip those PJs off my girl tonight while she is sleeping then go burn them out in the woods. She will be showing up to Thanksgiving in the cute little dress I bought her tomorrow. She might be coved in duct tape, but she’ll be in a dress.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Lydia's Top Ten New Things I am Thankful for This year:
If a fat cow like me can learn to love exercise then anything is possible.
9. Minute Maid Light Lemonade.
Only 15 calories a glass. Tastes like heaven!
You pay me crap, but I love working in your store.
7. My laptop.
You complete me.
6. Trident Layers Gum.
Seriously, this stuff is so good that it should be a controlled substance.
5. Dansko Clogs. (mine are red)
My feet have never been happier. I have never been taller.
4. My Tupperware drink shaker tumbler.
Never spill again! NEVER!
3. My Vanity Fair Bra # 75-134.
I am finally lifted and separated! Bless you!
2. Red Molly.
If you haven’t heard them. Go to Redmolly.com. They have made travelling in the car happy.
1. My Pandora Bracelet. (From my best girl friends)
I am obsessed with the cute little charms. Now you all know what to send me from Christmas.
Monday, November 23, 2009
I’ll start by stating the obvious my husband Dave and I are polar opposites. You know me I am a sparkling electric rainbow disco-screwball. While Dave is a plain white incandescent light bulb. He is practical, thrifty, consistent, dependable, and always useful. He is not the kind of man you see gracing the cover of romance novels in a billowy white shirt and long hair. My husband is the billowy shirt guy’s friend, the friend who listens to his girl troubles, helps him with his income tax and gives him sound financial advice. My Dave is neither exciting nor controversial, he can’t ride a horse bareback, but he calls when he says he’ll call, he is always where he is supposed to be, and he is always there for me when I need him. Now that is a sexy thing.
With all that said the person in my life that deserves my thankfulness and praises the most is my magnificent husband Dave. Dave has been featured in my blog time after time and never under pleasant circumstances. He has been the public face of daft husbands and clueless fathers everywhere and has never once complained. I publically air his dirty laundry, his most embarrassing moments, and take my poetic license to exaggerate his foibles to the point of making him sound like one of those stupid sitcom dads. You know those foolish lazy fat guys who are always married to those, savvy, stylish, runway ready wives? Well in all honesty we are like a sitcom couple. Dave is the stylish sexy smart one who keeps a clean house, and I am the fat lazy one who lives in tee-shirts and sweats who watches too much TV. Dave could write hundreds of blogs about my countless deficiencies and failings. Like the fact that I am a horrible house keeper. You might have thought that I am kidding or embellishing when I blog about my lack of domestic abilities. Nope I am a slob. I am a disorganized messy thrift store shopping freak and the only thing keeping me off of the show Hoarders is Dave. My sweet husband puts up with a lot.
I am thankful for my husband for countless reasons; He is a wonderful husband and daddy. He is terribly unappreciated at times and taken for granted by his dim-witted self absorbed wife. He is the string to my yo-yo, the T-bar to my roller coaster, the safety-net under my flaming trapeze. My friend, my love, my Davy, I am thnkful for you.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
I have been promising to do this for years. I have finally entered my son in a modeling contest. Most boys dream of growing up to be a pro spots player. My son wants to be on TV or in a rock band. He is a very handsome kid. Looks like his dad. Please vote for him and make his dream come true.