Monthly Archives: February 2011
My internet is not working (it would really help to pay our bills) and now I am left with nothing productive to do. It is kind of depressing to say that, but I have the washer and dryer running and the house is basically clean. The baby is napping and I am in dire need of a shower, but of course, I will post instead.
I started reading a lot of blogs and they are all different in many ways aside for their one similarity. Most people have stories to tell because they get out of their houses, and most people have pictures to display because they have a camera. How profound, I know.
Problem is, I never leave my house and I don’t have a camera. Yeah, how do I survive? I am beginning to see that perhaps, I do not. I used to own a camera and still do. However, a few months back, I lost the charger in the enormous mess that is strangely concealed somewhere within my home. So basically, there is no camera.
I hardly ever leave the house and therefore, I don’t meet people. My husband, on the other hand, is a chick magnet and ‘the craziest thing ever’ magnet. Every day, he comes home with a tale of “You won’t believe what I saw, it was the craziest thing EVER!” or “I saw so-and-so today and she is blah blah blah.” (How descriptive) Did that sound jealous? Neh.
I am pretty sure he does see the oddest things ever, though. One time, Read the rest of this entry
We are all familiar with Mother Goose. Though an imaginary figure, she still seems to be responsible for the multitude of inappropriate fairy tales and nursery rhymes.
I always wondered how mothers sang some of these rhymes to their children. The same mother who made sure that the movies their children were watching were suitable for their ages, did not put any thought into nursery rhymes. Because they are so popular and accepted, everyone assumes that they are deemed as safe and appropriate.
We gave our title over to a Goose. We left it for her to decide what is okay for our children. Not even a regular bird, but one who wears a bonnet. Nice. What great parents we are.
Did you ever sit back and listen to your little boy or girl as they danced around chanting about the London plague that killed 70,000 residents. If you did not, start listening.
Ring a-round the rosie
A pocket full of posie
We all fall down! Read the rest of this entry
I have been put under the Baby Spell. Help!
I love my little guy. But at one years old, knowing how to tie me to a leash, is not something I can deal with.
I have this image of a frail old lady walking her dog. The dog makes a dash for a beetle that he spotted from across the lot. The poor little woman’s feet are lifted off the ground and she is dragged on the pavement until he comes to a stop. I am, most definitely, that little old lady who is walked by her dog.
Read the rest of this entry
ODE TO MY BELOVED
O, Love, thou hadst truly swept me away
So pure, so fine. A taste oh so sweet
Passionately enamored. In hope the magic will stay
The smooth and succulent craving
Thou hast me deeply enthralled
A tease, intense desire, into which I am caving
So far from infatuation, how real thou art
A powerful enchantment. A dizzying spell
A deep, tender love thou dost impart
Thou shalt be mine, thou hadst overcome me
Molten waves, thou hadst rushed through all veins
Heart engulfed by a decadent, milky sea
A hopeless romantic, O, Chocolate, I adore thee
All’s right in the world, no more perfect can it be Read the rest of this entry
I am strangely grateful for the coming of Sunday. I love weekends most of the time, but they get tricky when it comes to writing. I just can’t seem to find enough time to make a comprehensible post. Sure, I can post anything that I want, being that this is my blog, but I will use that advantage to other benefits. (if that even made sense like it did in my head)
Fear not, I won’t make it like an ever-changing, grammatically incorrect, and sometimes a wee bit too personal, Facebook status.
What’s on your mind? “Umm.. gee. Thanks 4 asking. Such a craaaazy day. My house is totally flying and kids are screaming like wow. I am so in love with my husband, but can really use a wife“ I mean, really, who cares.
There were 164 hits on my Chef D’ivoire on Thursday which is wonderful in some ways and deplorable in many others. There were no rating stars nor comments given on the whole site. Sadly, I succumbed to the desperate level of “ask a family member to rate something so it doesn’t look pathetic”. I am guilty as charged.
I understand that it can be annoying to comment due to laziness. I even understand that not everyone was blessed in the overflowing with words department such as myself. Nonetheless, it may reflect poorly on my blog that there was nothing at all to say. Read the rest of this entry
My kids are struggling and it is time for me to be a mom. I know I am always a mom, but it is time for me to act like one. I have been possessed by my computer and, of course, my blog and I need an exorcist. I have tried closing the screen and shutting the door to the computer room. All this to no avail. It just takes me an extra moment and I need to flip open the screen and swing open the door.
I see they are having a hard time and they are crying for my attention. You would think it is a simple decision to say goodbye to the computer and hello to them. But I can’t. I have been overcome by the urge to write. I have trouble sleeping at night because my mind is clouded by posts in progress. I need my children to become a writer’s block. Now, I have to figure out how it can be done.
Today, I will attempt to be there. Without my computer, I get awful withdrawal and words don’t seem to exit my mouth. It starts slowly. First, I am wonderful and I listen to the whining and I obey their requests. Ten minutes later, the whining is still present and I don’t want to hear it anymore. I tell myself to woman up and smile and nod. I become a smile and nodder. The plan works for an hour tops and then begins to gradually deteriorate. The smile is almost a frown and the nodding head turns achy. The disguise comes to a complete halt and the hands start doing Spirit Fingers. Where is my keyboard? Then the mumbling tumbles in. The kids ask me to speak up and I am afraid if I do I will shout so loud, the windows will shatter. I don’t want to freak them out. I purse my lips shut. Read the rest of this entry
Can’t seem to get all the Grammy TMI out of my head. So, did she get a Brazilian or not. Gross. I am beginning to realize that lately there has been way too much information in all the wrong places. It would be nice if our political leaders would disclose the important details and not all the trivial and useless ones. Speaking of which, do people really believe that the U.S. leaders have no idea where Osama Bin Laden is? They know everything, and they were even warned about September 11th. But they can’t find a man attached to a dialysis machine? There were claims since December 2001 that he had died and now they are popping up and saying that he is alive and well. Don’t let me get started on politics. I don’t know enough. I only know conspiracy theories, they are my all time favorite.
Back to the celebrity TMI. The media dictates most of our lives and they affect our society and culture a great deal. There are extremes, of course, of people following every celebrity move. Complete makeovers to resemble their stars. The significant others who will pay a bloody fortune to acquire a dirty tissue of the sniffling Scarlett Johansson. That, by the way, went for 5,300 in an eBay auction. Point proven. However, there are more common ways of emulating. I admit, I am guilty in plenty of ways. We all want their shoes, their carriages, their hairdo, and sometimes even their loved ones. Hey, they are hot! Who wouldn’t be tempted? Nothing serious. Just one night.
Scary thought though, especially after watching the Grammy awards. These are the people guiding the public. So long Mother Theresa, Lady Gaga has hatched and is the new kid in town. There is an updated color chart and Pink has gone nude. We have no hope at all. The likelihood of a future functioning society and normalcy is highly improbable. A slow and painful demise of the world. Gradual deterioration of our brains from the doltish lyrics and absurd facades that are becoming a reality.
These are the ones our children emulate. Read the rest of this entry
I am pretty sure that I just aged a full century. I have never felt as pathetically old and ‘so last year’ as I did after all the Grammy award chaos. It is pretty clear to me that I am not a teen anymore when I watch the little stars rise from their cradles, but this took me to a whole new level of ancient.
Bieber makes me proud. Yeah, I admit I am a bit jealous of a lilliputian idol catching the eyes of young and old alike, but he did well. It’s sad for him to be required to lose his childhood, but I am sure he will be fine. That is the only part that saddens me with these young famous kids. As healthy humans, we only have a small percentage of our lives as adolescence. After that, we have a very large percentage of our lives being adults. Who would want to give up the small part that we can never get back. Well, for money and fame, I probably couldn’t agree more. I would too. With the hair just calling out to be tousled and the tiny adorable voice, who can disapprove. He makes me smile.
But then, they happened and I almost cried. Well, first came the horror and disbelief. From the nude body suits to the leopard prints to the bushes sprouting from heads… all the way until the woman hatching from an egg. Read the rest of this entry
I keep reading other blogs and every time that I do, I feel like I need to up my game. Why does everyone seem to have such exquisite vocabulary and such clever ideas to blog about. I feel far more inferior than amateur. I just decided to post for today and saw that I had a tab opened to my blog about the ‘covered all angles’ post. A second before I was about to close the tab to write today’s column, I figured that I should just check out my page. Glad I did. The post I wrote on Thursday was never published, although it was saved as a draft. So now I will have two posts for the day. Oh well.
Part of my previous disappearance, aside from the university test, was an untold tale of my family’s journey to America. Even though, after my vacation there this summer, I had sworn off ever doing it again, I did. My grandparents were celebrating their 50th anniversary and asked that we come in for their weekend retreat with all expenses paid. You would think they had me at the latter. No. Not even money can make me wish to torture myself. But 50 years? Who the hell makes it married 50 years? That deserved my compliance.
Don’t think it was easy. When I heard about it, I was adamant. Absolutely, positively, NOT happening. Then the guilt trips started heading my way. Honestly, I created some myself and those were the worst. My family kept telling me how it was ‘once in a lifetime’ and no matter what it would cost you, you don’t decline such an offer. Easy for everyone to say. They don’t have 3 children cooped up in a crowded tin bird for TWELVE hours, six miles above sanity. And they most definitely don’t come around to assist with the deviation from normal schedule and the whole new night shift that these kids have going.
Needless to say, I fell for it all. Only a short time later, I found myself up in the air cursing under my breath and silently swearing NEVER, NO MATTER WHAT CIRCUMSTANCES, to ever do this again. Only to make matters worse, we had to take the less expensive course and take a stop-over flight to Italy. I never flew a cheaper airlines in my life, let alone a stop-over. I did not even know what I was in for.
I packed up my suitcases and tried to keep it small. No matter how I try to keep baggage at a minimum, I still seem to look like a bag lady. I can easily be mistaken for one of the homeless collecting can and bottle bags. I look tattered and worn and have odd things hanging from each high quality plastic bag, some poking through the corners. So I had less on this trip than the last. One baby bag to keep at my feet by the flight with diapers, wipes, extra pacifiers ( we lose at least two every time), and a change of clothing for the baby. Then comes the plastic bag with the snacks that don’t run down drooling faces or get little grimy hands stuck on armrests (no chocolate, candies, or gum). Then comes a bag with all the sippy cups so that the thirsty boys always have their water in their cups. Next we have a carry-on with extra changes of clothing for the emergency situation of lost luggage upon arrival. Of course another carry-on with extra changes of clothing for everyone on the trip in case of spilling, accidents, and vomit. And finally, the suitcase with all the nick knacks and gadgets, coloring books and crayons, and trucks and stickers (we allow variety to promote fair choice). Definitely, not minimum enough. Read the rest of this entry
So we will start small. The goal of the next few minutes is to make sure the keyboard does not get sodden by bath water. And of course to make sure the little guy is safe and above the water surface. I don’t like baths and never give them. I just have dirty kids. No. The truth is I think baths are incredibly unsanitary. All the dirt slides off the body and then you sit in it and you leave dirtier than when you left. All the dirt that was between the toes is now tangled on the kids fingers. If I ever have to take a bath, I most definitely shower afterward. But for our children who, I believe, are by far dirtier than us don’t get that common decency.
I give showers. From when they are tiny, squirming, and slippery babies until they are big enough to go on their own. Today, however, is a different day. I decided to sew quilt covers for my boy’s so that I don’t have to keep stuffing the enormous blankets into the washing machine which is clearly not made for anything of such size. I took out the flat sheets from the set and put it out on the floor on top of the quilt. Oddly, they are significantly smaller. It is not supposed to work that way. I need to be able to stick the quilt inside.
So as I sat there pondering what to do with this unattainable mission, my baby concealed himself beneath a mound of oatmeal and bananas. The disguise was done thoroughly and he covered all angles, nooks, and crannies. In order to find him I needed to chuck him in the bath. Stolen waters are sweet, and he refuses to leave. Now I got my computer time.
I would like to make these quilt covers and show my steps along the way. I have light blue flat sheets and wanted a brown flat sheet to sew to the other side to make it reversible. Walmart was out of any of the colors I had wanted and that left me with Target. Target had one brown king-size flat sheet. I thought it would do but it is 1 1/2 times the size of a twin. It wont be big enough. I don’t have a car and don’t even know where to look for material in this country and so I am trying to make do with what I have.
The brown sheet comes about one foot too short. I am pulling open the seams on the sides and it has given me 2 inches per side. Not a bad start. It is taking a long time so I will write more when there is a significant change. I need a camera to show the beginning so that you can appreciate the end. Back to work for me…..
Keep ya posted…
Now there are three flat sheets. Two light blue twin sized and one brown king sized.