A Birthday, A Binky, and Some Balloons

Today is Rory’s 4th birthday.  We have been preparing for this birthday ever since his 3rd birthday.  Last year, I wanted Rory to rid our house of all binkies.  Rory’s craziness outlasted my love of sleep and he was granted access to Binky for sleeping only.  That lasted about a week before Binky was once again a permanent fixture in Rory’s mouth.  He never took it out of the house – he was a closeted binky-sucker.

About a month ago I really started driving it home to Rory that his Binky was not going to be around once he turned 4.  He was once again seemingly excited to rid himself of his Binky, but I had my doubts.  I also knew that if we didn’t really get rid of Binky, I would give in and let him have it as soon as the going got a little tough.  We decided that tying Binky to the end of a bunch of balloons and letting it fly away was the proper way to expose of his plastic oral fixation.

Rory and all of his ladies.

Rory and all of his ladies.

Kamryn really wanted to be the one to let the balloons go because she is a control freak like her mom, but I insisted that Rory be the one to do it.  He needed closure.  So after we all counted to three, he released the balloons and up, DSC05539

up, DSC05541

up,DSC05540 and up it went.  There was not much wind and Binky appeared to be going straight up in the air.  I had already said that if that damn binky ended up back at our house or if the balloons all popped and it fell right at Rory’s feet, we would be taking it home and he would be allowed to have it as long as he wanted.  Of course it did not and Binky is now somewhere east of San Diego.  In hindsight, I wish I would have attached a note for the whoever found it to email me so I knew how far it had gotten, but I may had been too tempted to go pick it up if I knew.  Not knowing is best.

After about 5 minutes, Binky was no longer visible to the naked eye so the kids flew kites, drove remote control cars and we looked on as our children gazed out over our beautiful city on a gorgeous day,DSC05553 on a little boy’s birthday.

DSC05561Happy birthday, to my wonderfully crazy, silly, naughty, hilarious, adorable, and best little boy!!

Pants Not On Fire!

I have been known to boast about my daughter’s seemingly inability to lie to me.  Don’t get me wrong, she does bad things, but she ALWAYS comes clean about it – usually with little to no prodding.  Of course I know this is not the norm and I also know that this will not last.  Rory is proof of that.  That kid lies like a rug.

This weekend I noticed that Kamryn seemed a little stuffed up and was probably coming down with the cold that so many of her classmates and friends have had the last few weeks.  I wasn’t all that surprised to hear her wake up Sunday night, shuffle into the bathroom and gag into the toilet.  I figured she had a nice little sinus drainage down her throat and it was upsetting her stomach.

When I asked her what didn’t feel good she said, “Am I going to go to school tomorrow?”  I told her that we would see when she got up in the morning.  After 3 more visits to the porcelain throne, I told her she could just sleep in tomorrow and stay home and rest.

All day Monday Kamryn laid on the couch, watching The Disney Channel and coloring pictures.  We had a brief discussion about why she wasn’t at school after I told her she would not be allowed to play Just Dance.  That didn’t prevent her from jumping up and dancing to commercial jingles, though.

It was clear that she would be going to school on Tuesday.  This morning, she got up on her own, ate some oatmeal, got dressed and then started complaining about being too tired to go to school.  I told her she was going because being too tired is not a reason to stay home – especially when she slept 12 hours last night.  I told her to do some jumping jacks to wake up, instead she laid down on the couch and pretended to fall back asleep.

And the Oscar goes too…..

I got my little actress out the door and in the car without much of a problem and once we were actually at school in the classroom, I knew she was fine.  Every morning I stay in her class for about a half hour reading with Kamryn and her classmates and every time I looked at Kamryn, she was smiling and visiting with her friends.  I told her teacher that she was complaining about being too tired and then I jokingly said, “If she annoys you too much, call me and I’ll come and get her.”  Mrs. M laughed, I laughed, we laughed together.  So imagine my surprise when I got a call at 9:58 from the school saying they had Kamryn in the office with a stomachache.

Kamryn had been sent back to her class to get her backpack by the time I got there so I went down to her classroom to retrieve her.  She was sitting at her table waiting for one of her friends to finish coloring her a get well picture.  When Kamryn saw me in the door, a huge smile spread across her face and as we walked out of her class, she said without an ounce of restraint, “This is the 2nd time I got to leave school early!”

I almost turned her right around and marched her back into the classroom, but I didn’t think it would be fair to Mrs. M to have to deal with Kamryn whining the rest of the afternoon.  I didn’t say anything until we walked out of the school doors.

Once we were in the car I said, “When we get home, I want you to take your shoes off, get your homework out of your backpack and go back to your room and do it.  You will not be watching TV, you will not watch anything on the tablet, you will not have access to my phone.  You are going to lay in bed and rest all day.”

The look of disgust was almost worth having to go pick her up.  I asked her if she really felt sick and she said, “My tummy hurts.”  I told her that was fine and that the rest would do her good.  And then the questions:  If I feel better, can I watch a show?  No.  If I take a long rest can I watch one show?  No.  Can I color?  Maybe.  Can I play with Legos?  Maybe.

So I asked her again, “Do you really feel sick?”  And she told me, “No.”  She then had to listen to my lecture about how school is important and that she needs to be there to learn.  I asked her if she would rather be laying in her bed, staring at the ceiling or at school with her friends.  She said she wanted to be with her friends.

Now, if I thought for one minute there was something going on at school like she was being bullied or having a problem with her teacher, believe me, I would get to the bottom of it, but since I am at that school every single day and watch her interact in that environment, there isn’t even the slightest concern when it comes to that with her.  This was strictly Kamryn wanting to stay home and be lazy.  Unacceptable.

I let her come out of her room to eat lunch and I was showered with praise about how I am the bestest mom in the world and I’m so funny and so pretty.  After lunch I told her to go back and lay down.  Rory had finished his lunch and was looking all over for the tablet.  I got up, walked back to Kamryn’s room where I found her in her closet watching Baby Bratz on Netflix.

I took the tablet away, gave it to Rory and was immediately told I was the meanest mom.  She even took the time to pen her disdain.Kamryn's_noteIf you can’t read her phonetic note, it says:

You are the worstest, selfish, baddest mom ever.  I am never going to love you ever again.  Never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never never.

Never going to love you again.

I told her that her note hurt my feelings and made me feel very sad.  She told me I hurt her feelings because I wouldn’t let her watch her shows.  I told her that wasn’t the same thing and that she was just mad because I wouldn’t let her watch the shows and that I didn’t do anything to hurt her.

She stomped off to her room and 15 minutes later, she came out to tell me she was sorry that she hurt my feelings and gave me a hug.  Then she told me she does love me.  See?  Cannot tell a lie.Kamryn&Aggie

I Did A Good Deed…I Think

I had my first taste of freedom today after a week of the kids being off of school for Thanksgiving break.  To say that the kids function much better when they have a strict schedule is an understatement.

I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do.  I knew I wanted to go for a run since that hasn’t been a priority of mine lately, but beyond that, I didn’t know if I should sit at home and catch up on some DVR’d shows, read my book or run errands.  I decided that I needed to run errands.  I had a check that needed to be deposited and a couple of things that needed to be returned at different stores.

I had finished my returns and had just pulled into the parking lot of my bank.  There was an older woman walking through the middle of the parking lot so I was waiting for her to pick a side before pulling into a spot.  I watched a man in his late 70′s or early 80′s get in his car and put it in reverse.  I took a quick glance at the woman walking and she had almost made it to the curb and she was thankfully out of the way of any traffic.  I couldn’t help but think of the South Park episode, Grey Dawn.  If you don’t know it, look it up.

The shiny, silver Infiniti parked next to the man wasn’t quite so lucky.  He started backing up and I was cringing because I knew he was going to hit the back panel of the neighboring car.  Sure enough, the entire right side of his car rubbed up against the back left panel of the Infiniti, leaving a nice black scratch.  He stopped, pulled back in his spot and because I like to think the best of people, I assumed he was going to get out and check out the damage.  Nah…he tried to reposition his car and ended up pulling out and hitting the car again.

At this point, I had gotten out of my car and was walking towards the ATM while watching some inter-vehicular dry humping.  I was also searching in my purse for a pen because it was pretty clear that the guy driving wasn’t going to stop, much less leave a note.  I wrote down his license plate and I’m almost 100% certain that he saw me standing there writing it down, but he still chose not to stop.

Once I had finished my banking business, I returned to my car and began scripting my tattle-tale note to the silver Infiniti driver.  I already was starting to feel kind of bad.  What if my note somehow results in this man losing his license?  And then I thought, Well, if that’s the case, he may have a lot of prior accidents and shouldn’t be driving.  And then I started to feel like an ageist.  But then I argued that he did hit another car…twice.  And then I thought, It’s just a car!  Who cares?  But then I thought of how I would react if I came out of somewhere to find a big scratch on my car.  Through all of my inner turmoil, I had written the following note:

I saw someone hit your car this morning.  He was backing out and rubbed against your back panel.  He was driving a red Toyota Camry (I think) I’m not 100% sure on the make and model, but his license plate is 6***236.  If you have any questions, you can email me at…

After placing my note under the windshield wiper of the car, I noticed the United States Naval Academy license plate holder on the Infiniti.  Hmmm, I wonder if this guy hit an Officer’s car!?  I felt a little better about tattling.  But what if the guy in the red Camry was an Officer?  I had no idea what the hell was going on in my head.

I got home around 2:45 after picking Kamryn up from school.  I checked my email and sure enough, I had an email from Susan. :

Dear Amy:

Thanks so much for taking the time to leave a note on my car. May I call you to ask a couple of questions?

My cell phone number is 619-xxx-xxxx.

Thanks again. That was very thoughtful of you.

Kind regards,

Susan

I called Susan and left her a message along with my number.  Normally, I wouldn’t give my number to anyone I didn’t know, but with the power of the internet, I found out all kinds of things on Susan before giving her my number and she seems like a pretty trustworthy gal (and a previous dancer).  She never attended the Naval Academy, though.

Anyway, Susan called back about 20 minutes later and was extremely grateful for my note.  She was so grateful, she said she wanted to give me something for my trouble.  I refused, but I’m a little curious as to what she would have given me.  A cup of coffee?  A check?  A spa day?  I wonder what a note about a car getting hit goes for these days?

Susan’s last words to me were, “Thanks again, Amy.  You did a good deed.”
I’m pretty sure red Toyota Camry guy doesn’t think so.

Flashback Friday Hostess Style

I’m sure most have heard the awful news that Hostess is going out of business.  I haven’t had a Hostess product in awhile, but I have chalked up quite a few indulgences in my 36 years.  How you eat a Hostess Cupcake is more of a personal preference than the underwear you choose to wear under your chinos.  I preferred to peel off the frosting and set it aside.  I would then break the cake in half and lick out the cream filling.  I would eat the cake next and finally the frosting wafer.

I loved the two pack of cupcakes.  Whenever I bought it, I would eat one cupcake with the intention of saving the second for the next day.  Inevitably, I would eat that second cupcake within the hour.  Screw Sprinkles – I like Hostess Cupcakes. Besides the cupcakes, a very close runner up in my Hostess indulgences were the Fruit Pies.  I remember eating these all the time as a kid.  They were so much better than real pie because of that layer of sugary glaze on the outside.  I didn’t like pie crust as a kid because it wasn’t sweet enough.  This solved that problem and made a piece of pie a convenient, handheld delight.

I liked the blueberry one the best, but those were sometimes hard to find.  I made Ryan go out and find me one when I was pregnant with one of the kids and I believe I had to settle for apple.  I had such a huge craving that I probably could have eaten 6 in one sitting.  I loved everything about these pies – the taste, the weight (they were heavy!) and even the wrapper.  Luckily, I didn’t eat 6 because I may have gone into a diabetic coma or had a heart attack.  The “real fruit” pies are absolutely horrible for you.

Fruit Pie Nutritional Information

Another one of my favorites was the Ho Ho.

It was basically just a cupcake flattened and rolled up, but the frosting was that waxy stuff that left a greasy feeling in your mouth.  I always tried to completely unroll the Ho Ho before I ate it, but that was a next to impossible feat.

Hostess held the market on so many scrumptious little pastries like SnoBalls, Ding Dongs, Donettes, Suzy Q’s, Chocodiles and Sweet Rolls.  Each one had their own little qualities and characteristics that was unique to that one product.  The store brand knock offs didn’t really compare to the Hostess brands.  They would do in a pinch, but they just didn’t quite satisfy that Hostess craving.

One Hostess product that I never really liked was the Twinkie.  I didn’t like the texture of the cake.  It was way too spongy for my liking.  I never felt like I fully got it chewed up in my mouth.  Also, the urban legend that a Twinkie had a nearly infinite shelf life never much appealed to me.

I know I’m not the only one that feels like a little part of their childhood is dying with that blue and red cellophane wrapper.  These products really are snack classics.

 

I’m Sorry President Obama, I Can’t Hear You. I Have A Flag In My Head.

I stayed up to hear The President’s victory speech, but unfortunately, I didn’t hear much until Obama snapped me back to attention by yelling “WE ARE THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!”  I was too distracted by watching the people behind The President and to the odd mixture of audience members.

I was watching the woman standing behind Obama’s right shoulder.  She was posing or giving f-me eyes to the camera the entire time.  If you go back and watch the speech again, you can see her either trying to seduce Obama’s back or possibly using her 15 minutes of fame to look a little whorish.

I went in search of a still photo that included the little seductress and found that there were many more people distracted by the woman over Obama’s left shoulder who had stuck her flag in her hair.  I noticed her, but didn’t find her flag-head nearly as distracted as the woman licking her lips and batting her eyes.

Ryan gets credit for the Willow Smith song play.

Happy Halloween?

My favorite time of year is upon us once again.  I so enjoy Halloween that I often think of costume possibilities throughout the year.  Usually those ideas are so fantastic that I make a mental note that I must start organizing and preparing for the costume no later than the last day of July.  Soon, I’m staring down October 30th on the calendar and my kids end up with crappy store-bought costumes.

At least that is what happened this year.  Last year, we successfully pulled off the Scooby-Doo gang (sans Scooby).

Halloween 2011

And this year I have a mermaid who has already lost 40% of the sequins on her skirt and a pirate who is actually wearing a buccaneer costume that is being held together with safety pins.  I am a boring old which whose hat won’t stay on her head and tights that claim to be one-size-fits-all, but the crotch is only slightly higher than my knees.  I’m pretty sure Ryan won’t be making any attempt at a costume at all.

I’m declaring right now that I will never buy a store bought costume again.  It’s not so much the cost because I guarantee I spend way more on my homemade costumes than I do on the store bought ones, but I just like the fact that they can be relied upon to hold up through multiple wears.  I also like to get pieces that can be worn on non-Halloween days.  Kamryn wore the little purple dress all the time and I intended to wear the orange sweater, but the neck is just a bit too tight around the neck.

Now that I have established that our costumes don’t even meet mediocre standards, I had a couple of other disappointments today.  The first came when I took Rory to school this morning.  I checked him in only to see a sign that said a water pipe had burst and because of no running water, school was cancelled.  They had a parade planned for the kids, which all the kids participated in, but then they were sent home.  Ugh.Normally, Rory not having school would be a bit of a disappointment because it means I don’t get my 3 hours of “me” time.  But today, my “me” time was lost anyway due to Kamryn’s Halloween party, which Rory would now be accompanying me.

I am the room mom for Kamryn’s class this year which means I am in charge of organizing the class parties.  With the help of Pinterest and numerous websites, there is no shortage of ideas for crafts, games and snacks for kids.  It’s the execution that counts.  Overall, the party went fairly well.  We played games, made spider cookies, made some bat crafts and listened to some music. The letdown came when I told Rory we had to leave.

He threw a fit of all fits.  Screaming, crying, hitting, etc.  It took absolutely every ounce of self control I had not to throw him over my shoulder, haul him out of school and pass him off to the next parent that drove up.  We got in the car and I expressed my extreme disappointment in his behavior to which he yelled, “I WANT MY BINKY!”

The minute we got in the house, I told him to take off his costume and go to bed.  He did.  Two hours later, I had to wake him to pick Kamryn up from school.  I guess someone was a little tired.  It was then that I noticed a very creepy and ghostly image around the pumpkins that we carved on Sunday.

Moldy Witch

Out went the pumpkins.

The only thing I wanted to do was sit down and watch a good 60′s or 70′s horror movie like Rosemary’s Baby, The Omen, Amityville Horror or The Exorcist.  There is something about the movies set in those decades that are always just a little bit creepier to me.  Surprisingly, I couldn’t find any of those movies – not even on AMC and I was left watching My Idiot Brother. 

Once we got home from picking Kamryn up from school, Kamryn declared today the best Halloween ever and we haven’t even gone trick or treating yet.  Rory is singing “Trick or treat!  Smell my feet!  Please I can have something yummy?”  And I am watching A Haunting, one of my favorite shows with terrible acting and horrible special effects, but a great narrator’s voice.

Dumbshit With The Desk

I don’t expect much from people.  Really.  Just some common sense, a little logic and maybe some interesting conversation every once and awhile.

Ever since Sunday, I kept getting a phone call from someone with a 310 area code.  According to Wikipedia, that is somewhere in the Los Angeles area.  I don’t know anyone in LA.  I mean, I know people who live there, but my guess is that they aren’t calling me.  Ellen?  Tom?

Anyway, along with the calls, that I decided not to answer, I also got a text which read:

Hi!  Is this desk still available?

With a picture of a desk.

I thought about sending back a smart ass response, but I get scared and paranoid about that stuff.  Like what if the text was coming from…inside the house!  So I ignored the text too.

This afternoon I got yet another call from my 310 buddy.  This time I answered it because I was feeling feisty.

Me:  Hello?

310 Buddy: Uh, hello?

Me:  I just said that.

310 Buddy:  What?

Me:  What do you want?

310 Buddy:  Oh.  OK.  Is the desk still available?

Me:  I don’t know.

silence

Me:  I’m just kidding.  I don’t have a desk.

silence

Me:  Hello?

310 Buddy:  Craigslist.

Me:  Yeeees?

310 Buddy:  Is this 619-733-XXXX?

Me:  Yes.

310 Buddy:  You have a desk for sale on Craigslist.

Me:  No, I don’t.  It’s the wrong number.  Can you give me the ad number?

310 Buddy:  Ad number?

Me:  Yes.

310 Buddy:  I don’t se…oh yeah, here’s a number.

Silence

Me:  Can you give it to me?

310 Buddy:  Do you have a pen?

Me:  I have a pencil.

Silence

Me:  *sigh*  I’m ready.

310 Buddy:  Oh!  OK…it’s 33044….

Me:  Thanks!

310 Buddy:  OK.  So…

Me:  Bye.

So now I don’t know who got beat with the stupid stick worse.  The guy trying to buy the desk or the moron that posted the ad with the wrong phone number.

Because I’m such a nice person, I replied to the post on Craigslist and let the guy selling the desk that he had an interested party and left 310 Buddy’s phone number, along with a request to change the phone number in his ad.  It is going to really blow 310 Buddy’s mind if he gets a call from the Desk Seller.

All of this for a crappy desk: