Archive for the ‘Daily’ Category
December 13 2011
I’ve been doing most of my Christmas shopping online this year, which means there have been your standard, non-descript shipping boxes coming through here with secret toys inside. My dilemma is how to hide those boxes since I have nowhere else to store them. Luckily, I have an open area above my kitchen cabinets that is just enough space to house a big brown box.
A really big box.
The great thing is that the kids can’t get to it. They can see it, however. And it was the first thing Jedi noticed.
“What’s that box for?”, he asked.
“Um, it’s just stuff. Nothing important”, I replied.
“Is it clothes?”, he continued.
“No.”
“Kitchen stuff?”, he still wouldn’t let it go.
Realizing that this would probably result in a game of a thousand questions, I gave in. “Sure, fine, it’s kitchen stuff.”
But that wasn’t good enough. “Is it a box of knives?”
“Yes, Jedi. It’s a giant box of knives. Sharp knives. Dangling precariously above our heads. So you should probably stay away from here, huh?” With that, he slowly backed up out of the kitchen. There’s hasn’t been a word said about it since. And that is one way to make sure your kids don’t find their Christmas presents.
December 12 2011
It was during dinner, which always seems to be a rambunctious time for my kids. I’ve retired the notion of ever achieving a relaxing family meal for now, we’ll work on that later, but I do prefer they sit somewhere and at the very least pick at their food. This time, however, Abby and Buzz were more interested in playing. Jumping on the chair, running around in circles, screaming songs, and pretending to bite each other. Their food sitting on the table untouched.
They were driving me crazy.
That entire meal was spent trying to separate the two deviants to no avail. Sit down and eat your food was my main subject of dinnertime banter, with each instance the words escalating louder and louder until I could envision the top of my bright red face coming off with steam blowing out.
I was already in this mood when, after I had enough and the plates were put away, Abby knocked a basket containing an assortment of pieces off a living room table. And I may have yelled, more at the situation and the day and myself than at her. But it was not one of my stellar parenting moments.
When, as if he knew exactly what I needed, Buzz picked up the handle of a play phone and dialed.
“Hello, Grandma…”, Buzz greeted.
Why yes, now would be a perfect time to call Grandma. And tell her to send reinforcements. Wine would work.
November 24 2011
I am so thankful for them:
And also, sweet potatoes. I’m very thankful for sweet potatoes.
To all my fellow American readers, I hope you have a happy and wonderful Thanksgiving!
November 23 2011
It was raining as we ventured out, a light but steady ping of autumn sprinkles on the umbrella, the hood on our coats covering our heads for good measure. The entire day had been dark and gloomy, this bit of time was no exception. Though it was made a touch bit brighter by Abby’s new fall boots.
We walked in the rain until we found ourselves standing next to a small puddle under the bare branches of a tree turned by the season. Abby put her umbrella down, hood still up, and went in search of a stick to splash in the water with.
With the steady rain, however, all the sticks were dirty.
That wasn’t enough to deter my daughter at first. Singing and twirling in the rain, she found the perfect stick and splashed the water around in the puddle. Which stirred the gravel and debris from the bottom into a muddy muck that dripped, and initially delighted, my 3 year old who’s always more than happy to make a mess.
But then she noticed the dirt that got on her hands.
I scoured my pockets for tissues, with no luck. But she looked at me, as if I have all the answers. “I don’t have anything to wipe your hands with right now. You’re just going to have to hold on until we get home to wash them.”
Her face turned south for a scant few seconds. Until she wiped her dirty, mucky hands clean on my coat.
Or, you could do that. Because I suppose that’s what I’m here for. And I guess I didn’t really like that coat, anyway.
November 16 2011
I was lying in bed the other morning, long before the sun woke up. My wouldn’t rest enough to fall back to sleep, because I was thinking about a basket I have. Clearly this isn’t your ordinary basket. It’s big and made of sturdy metal, a piece picked up from the previous tenants of some place I’ve rented over the years. I’m sure it would need to be cleaned, and the junk it was already holding thrown away, but I was lying there wondering if it might solve the stuffed animal storage problem I seem to be experiencing.
That’s right, I lie in bed dreaming of stuffed animal storage.
Doesn’t everyone?
But it’s a good dream to have. Kind of like world peace, and almost as unatainable. All of the stuffed animals stored in a neat, yet aesthetically pleasing, container out of the way. Instead of spilling forth and taking over every square inch of space.
The thing is, it’s boggling how we accumulated so many stuffed animals. I haven’t purchased a single one. The grandparents, however, can’t seem to pass a crane game without playing. And then they multiply. So I was trying to determine if this basket was big enough to house the many we’ve been given. Except even if it were, that might only solve one of my problems. Because then I wouldn’t know where to put the damn basket .
At which point I realized. There is only one truly good stuffed animal storage solution. And it involves packing them all in a trash bag, to donate to some other unwitting family.
