TheMommyBlog

Wednesday, February 25, 2004 Familybits

My ankles sure are spring-rainy fresh this morning! They got another bath as I stepped off the curb to get into my car. Look! A moat! Did I mention that I am wearing my favorite suede wedgie mules?

Tuesday, February 24, 2004 Familybits

This is just wrong. Just. Wrong. I have a dim recollection of my cousin Lisa saying in an IM that she was waiting for this thing to come in the mail, but I didn’t think about it again until my Aunt Ellen burned my eyes with the full photodocumentary (Curse you, Ellen, curse you! And what is that white crud all over Lisa’s hot dog?? Aaauuuggggh. And why oh why did I ever have to utter that last sentence, ever, in my life??). I have always expected strange things from the Blacklidge side of the family, but, oddly enough, my Uncle Mike doesn’t seem to have been involved in this one. Say, Ellen, what have you done with Uncle Mike? Hmmmmmmm?

P.S. Ellen, I got all homesick for Grandma when I saw the kitchen…

Monday, February 23, 2004 Familybits

As I was leaving for work this morning:

Him: “Did you hear your cell phone ringing last night, around 5?”
Her: “Yes, but I was napping and didn’t feel like getting up. I haven’t even checked to see who it was yet.”
Him: “It was probably your boyfriend.”
Her: “You know, it probably was. I specifically instructed him to call me at home, on a Sunday, around dinnertime.”
Him:: “Because you’d be alone then.”
Her: “Precisely. Completely free to talk.”
Him: “And you made sure to leave it charging next to the computer.”
Her: “Yes, for maximum visibility and ease of access.”
Him:”And you gave him my cell phone number too, just in case you didn’t answer.”
Her: “Yes, of course. Why? Did you forget to give me a message?”

We chuckle.

Him: [pause] “Um, maybe you should get a boyfriend. I think you deserve one.”
Her: “Really? Why?
Him: “Because I just remembered that it was me who called you. I accidentally hit the send button from inside my pocket...”
Her: “Dork.”
Him: “Yeah.”
Her: “I’m blogging this, you know.”
Him: “Yeah, I know.”

Thursday, February 19, 2004 Familybits

Our five-year-old called his daddy into the bathroom for some help the other day (yes, it’s going to be that kind of post, so go on and visit Buzz or Chris if you prefer more palatable subjects). Gil went in, hoping for a commando-style mission: a quick assist and a hasty retreat, but Logan asked him to pull up a stool seat and talk with him while he finished up. I have to give Gil a heap pile lot of credit for this, because there was a definite haze in the air and it took some fortitude to stay. He reached into the cupboard, grabbed a cannister, gave the air a surreptitious spritz, and faced his oldest son.

Gil: “OK, Logan, what did you want to talk about?”
Logan: “Well, guess what? I can count to 900! Wanna hear?”

UPDATE: I just checked my links like a good little blogger, and noticed that Buzz has actual photos of someone’s digestive tract today. Try to remember that I spared you that.

Wednesday, February 18, 2004 Familybits

This morning, I was sleeping the sleep of the recently deceased… just could not peel my eyelids open until almost 8 (yes, 8!), but reluctantly did so when my sons came yodeling into the bedroom and started jumping up and down on me.

“Mommy!" ~jump~ “Oooff! ~jump jump~ “Look at us!” ~knee~ “Ow!” ~jumpjumpjumpjump~ “Say cheeeeese!” ~jump CLICK jumpjump~ “Huh?”

Logan had his new camera around his neck on a strap and was proudly taking aim again. I gave a wan smile and rolled out from under the covers and retreated to the shower. A few minutes later, standing there like a zombie, face up to the water, I heard it again: “Say CHEESE!” ~CLICK~ “Man, I just LOVE taking pictures of the shower!” “Huh? Wait--Logan--was there film in there???”

Aaauuuuugggggghhhhhhh!

By the way, you can stop hovering. There are NO links!

Sunday, February 15, 2004 Familybits

We had a rare night out tonight and went to see Mystic River. It was a bit of a risk, because neither we nor our friends could find a sitter, but we didn’t let that stop us! Their daughter, who will be thirteen and a half in two years, really wanted to show us that she could do the job, so we agreed to let her (because we’re sooooo generous) watch her 6-year-old brother along with our three little monkeys (who are 5, 3 & 2, in case you’ve missed the thousand and one times I’ve mentioned it here). As precautions, we gobbled pizza at their house beforehand, stacked up all the Disney movies we could find, asked a neighbor to check in on them after a while, and went to a nearby theater.

The children had loads of fun and behaved beautifully. I, on the other hand, did not. At one point during a pivotal scene, I contracted the most inappropriate and violent fit of giggles. The theater was dead silent as the rest of the audience waited breathlessly for the big moment to unfold, and all I could do was make a funny laughing hiccupy sound when Tim Robbins answered his wife’s wee-hour inquiry of “What are you watching?” with: “Vampires.” Try to imagine a blend of Click and Clack and Chauncey Gardner, with a little bit of Deputy Dawg, stoned. It was actually a man undergoing a psychotic break in front of his terrified wife, but I completely lost it at the next line. She was standing behind his chair, hands clutched to her mouth in anxious fear, as he deadpanned, “He just ripped her head off.”

I was off and running. Just could not stop. I was shaking. Literally sitting there with both hands clamped over my mouth. Each time I began to get a hold of myself, I would hear Gil twitch and chuckle to my right and I would dissolve all over again. I couldn’t breathe, and needed to pee, and to make it worse, my friend kept whispering, “What? What?” No way I could explain it. Just no way. Oh, I am starting up again just thinking about it…

Saturday, February 14, 2004 Familybits

Ugh, the posts and comments over at Fluffy’s and Purple Pen gave me nightmares last night!

I dreamed that one of the moms at Logan’s school completely froze me out, as the representative of all the other, more involved moms. I called her up to return a call, and before I even said hello, she announced, “We’ve decided we don’t want you here.” “Excuse me?” “Obviously, your son’s education is your absolute bottom priority.” REET! REET! REET! REET! REET! Which of course caused me to launch into a mile-long protest and rebuttal, because, really, can any of you who have read a single word here imagine that I don’t consider my children a priority?? I personally think that most of you have to take me in small doses because there is a fairly short menu when it comes to topics here. It was my absolute worst parenting nightmare. Well, injury or death would be worse, but MAN, that got to me. Having a bit of trouble shaking it.

Thursday, February 12, 2004 Familybits

...Blog It Forward in Familese? Cuz I need to give a shout out to my hubby, Gil.

Can I just tell you what I came home to tonight? After working late, but not as late as lately, I was greeted upon walking into the house by three grinning, deliriously happy children, tummies full from dinner and about to dig into strawberry ice cream cones and then baths. Simmering on the stove was a pot of the most delicious-smelling Parma Rosa Rigatoni with Sea Bass, and to go with it, a hunky chunk of my favorite Parmesiano Reggiano and a very full, very cold glass of Chardonnay. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. I almost cried at the sight. Needless to say, I am feeling full and happy and just the right amount of tipsy. So thank you, Gil, thank you Knorr, and thank you Safeway.com, for making a gourmet meal happen without any help from me!

Thursday, February 12, 2004 Familybits

...from inside the shower, shampoo running into your eyes, your 2-year-old standing on the toilet seat, holding a tube of opened toothpaste, face screwed up in concentration, mouth a-grimace, mightily squeezing the tube with both hands…

Wednesday, February 11, 2004 Familybits

Came home late again tonight, and just a few minutes ago I was in the kitchen, doing the Workaholic Table For One Routine: standing there in my stripey pj’s, gobbling a leftover hamburger patty out of a Tupperware bowl and guzzling a glass of wine while chatting with my 5-year-old.

Logan was on a roll, waxing poetic about the relative size of gorillas and lions and tigers, and their varied habitats (which, incidentally, are really different from pandas’ habitats). He had a rather astute analysis going about the various stages of mane development in male lions: when they are about 2 1/2 years old and teenagers, they have just a little hair down the back of the neck, like a hyena’s mane (in humans, we call them “mullets."). When they are 4 and adults, they have manes that go more around their heads. When they are fully grown, the manes fill out and stand our from their heads and are quite full.

This of course, led to a discussion of our own heads of hair (because in the end, everything does really revolve around me). I asked who he thought he looked like, his mom or his dad, and he said: neither. I then asked who he thought his brother and sister looked like. and again he said: neither. Huh. “Well, why do you think you don’t look like me?” “Because you have long hair, silly!” “But if I cut mine all off, it would look just like yours.” “OK, let’s cut it right now!” “Ohohohoho… you’re funny… no. Let’s not. But let me ask you this: I’ll need to go to Daniel soon for another haircut--do you think I should let it grown longer, or cut it shorter, or leave it the same?” [thoughtful pause] “Oh, I think you look pretty nice with it just the same.” [heart melting into a puddle on the kitchen floor]

And then...while I was still blushing:

“Mom, I’m still hungry.” “Well, would you like to have the rest of this hamburger patty?” “No thanks. Well, I’ll have a bite of it if you want me to, because we can’t just leave it in the fridge for a long time, because it will get really cold. And, if we leave it in there for, like, 20,000 years, it’ll be as cold as the High Arctic!”

Saturday, February 07, 2004 Familybits

Had to walk away from the kitchen for a sec. I think it’s been at least a week and a half since I’ve put on my funny cap and hung a stubby smoke out of the coner of my mouth and done the short-order thing with the kids. Funny how nerve-wracking it is when you’re not used to it. (Note to Gil: you ROCK. I don’t know how you stay off the booze.)

Further evidence of cowardice: I know for a fact that as I am typing this that the two younger ones are pooling resources (Dylan’s topographical knowledge and Daphne’s smaller hands) to break into the candy drawer. I hear plastic rustling and furtive whispering, but it fades if I turn up the radio…

Friday, February 06, 2004 Familybits

Is there anything cuter than one of your babies running down the hall to the bath, bare-ass nekkid?

Thursday, February 05, 2004 Familybits

Well, wonders never cease: the vet called and said that they had taken Molly for a little walk, and her hip popped back in! He suggested we may want to wait and watch for a little while, to see if it stays, before jumping into surgery. Good thing we didn’t put her down this morning!!

“Um, Mr. Roberts? We were just bagging her up, and noticed that her hip was placed properly after all!”

Thursday, February 05, 2004 Familybits

Up since 2, reading work-related emails. Actually having trouble sleeping, as am feeling tortured by the thought of our dog lying awake and in pain at the vet’s, awaiting our decision about her future. The decision we haven’t quite made yet, but must by 7 a.m.

Molly was badly injured yesterday while leashed to her lead in our front yard. Another young dog, large, I think, was walking by with its owner and broke its leash trying to play with Molly. It seemed friendly, and they were trying to romp, but then Molly surged to the end of her lead, was caught up short, and flipped over onto her side. She violently dislocated her right hip, tearing it completely all around--360 degrees.

Wednesday, February 04, 2004 Familybits

My mother is turning 60 on Saturday. It’s a big deal, and we have been giving a lot of thought to what would make her day special. We’ll be catering a dinner at her home and baking her one of our famous carrot cakes (that is, if Logan approves, rigid little bastard that he is), but the gifts have been the difficult part. She really doesn’t need anything except more hours in the day, and if I find a place to buy that, I certainly won’t be sharing that information.

After careful consideration, we’ve decided to go practical and give her something she needs and will not buy for herself. It ties into something significant and meaningful in a way, and I can settle for that. You see, we are thinking of writing a book together, and to that end, I have created a private blog for her on my account so that she can start keeping notes and jotting down ideas. And, since she reads this blog, I won’t say what the actual gift is, but I will say this: I am serious about this book, Mom, so get ready!

On a lighter note, we’ve been having great conversations with the boys about what to do for Grandma. Here are some ideas that came out of a conversation Gil had with Logan this morning:

Logan: ”We could try to make her shoulder feel better.”

Gil: “How?”

Logan: “We could give her some ice.”

“We still have to bake cookies for my class for Valentine’s Day. There are 19 kids in my class. If we bake 20 cookies, we could give her one.”

“I know, I’ll give her some of my school work. I’ll give her my pumpkin. No, I don’t want to give her that, because it’s missing an eye.”

And my personal favorite:

“How about a sleepover? No, because she would have to sleep over forever, because a present is forever. Besides, that wouldn’t be a present for her, it would be a present for us.”