Archive for the ‘Daily’ Category
July 28 2011
I’ll be the first to admit that I’m on the computer a lot. My netbook and I are practically attached at the hip. Between writing posts and twitter updates to reading the news, it’s like my life vest, keeping me afloat. It’s my link to the outside world of adults and my sanity saver all in one.
Why yes, it is my crutch.
Abby is accustomed to sharing my lap with an open screen, my fingers poking at keys one-handed. I’ve gotten good at equally dispensing my attention, at least jotting down a vague idea whilst simultaneously reading a book to my daughter. I can always come back and edit later, so long as I have the main gist covered. Don’t worry, it’s not all the time. There are plenty of instances where my kids have my undivided attention. But I do try to accomplish both more often than I should.
Then, as my daughter is sitting next to me, I realize I have the prime means for a teaching moment. We begin to point at the keys together, while I recite the letter or symbol associated with each.
“That’s an O?”, Abby asks.
“No, that’s a C”, I correct. “And this, this is a period. It goes on the end of sentences, like this”, I show her as I type some words in the box, finishing with punctuation.
“Next,” as I end the lesson, “is the most important part. Pay close attention. Watch Mommy click here to post this crucial status update about socks to Twitter.” Now that we have the basics, tomorrow I’ll begin explaining to my 3 year old how she can increase her Klout.
July 27 2011
Taking advantage of having my parents over to watch the kids, I ventured outside for a bit of yard work. First thing first, however, I wanted to test a water hose I found in our shed. The one currently in use has a weird connector that won’t attach to nozzles or sprinklers, while the other was more compatible. If I didn’t have to buy a new, all the better.
With my mother watching from the other side of the glass screen door and my daughter under her foot, I gathered the hose and screwed it in the spout after quickly glancing it over. I also grabbed a spray nozzle that wouldn’t work on the other, but fit together seamlessly on this. Figuring the deal was done, I turned the lever to on and fixed my gaze on the end of the hose to make sure the water shot out as intended.
Only the water shot out everywhere except where it was intended. I was soaked.
Still, I wasn’t ready to give up. With my mom attempting to hide a chuckle and my daughter helpfully pointing out how wet I was, I went inside to grab the duct tape. Because duct tape fixes everything.
Everything except a water hose.
With a degree of hope, I bandaged the tubing as tightly as I could and turned the lever back on. Again, my gaze was fixed to the end of the hose as I waited for the water to shoot out. Which it did. For a split second, I achieved the pressurized spray I had saturated myself for. And then, the duct tape let loose in such a marvelous volume. My hair clung to my neck, water filled my shoes. I was drenched on top of soaked.
“Nope, not gonna work”, I managed to utter in a deadpan to my mother, who was laughing to the point of tears, as I sloshed my way toward a towel. And while drying off, I cursed those hose. They really are nothing but trouble.
July 19 2011
Let’s talk about vegetables. Do you want to talk about vegetables?
Yeah, let’s talk about vegetables. You know, those vitamin-packed morsels that send children screeching in horror just at the sight. They may look innocent, some even quite delicious under certain preparations, but to a kid they are evil. Especially those with leafy tops, they’re just sinister. I mean, do your kids eat vegetables? Willingly? Because mine don’t. Mine would rather ingest cardboard.
“What are these?”, Jedi wondered, poking at the pods as if he expected them to scurry across the table while his nose scrunched.
“It’s sugar snap peas. You’ve had them before, you like them.”, I may have lied.
He didn’t like them.
You can’t blame me for trying to include a healthy option with our meal when possible. It makes me feel better for all the nights we have pizza. Doing so, however, opens the dinner discussion to bargaining and serious contract negotiations.
“I’ll tell you what, just eat 5 peas and you can be done”, I compromised.
“But that’s too many”, he whined.
Exhausted already, I reasoned, “Fine, eat 3 without any more complaint or it goes back up to 5″. It takes 30 minutes, they’re cold and he’s the only one left at the table, but he finally swallows each, like glass going down. “I think I’m going to be sick”, he states dramatically afterward.
So we can talk about vegetables. I would love to talk about vegetables. What are your favorite kinds of vegetables? You know what my favorite kind are? Any kind my kids will eat without acting like it’s torture.
July 06 2011
Fireworks were missed this July for the first time since the kids have been born. Even when they were littler and screaming in terror at the loud booms, they were still forced to suffer through in the name of making memories. Those days are gone and they would now be starstruck. This year, however, it’s just another in a line of how things are different.
I hoped that we could at least catch some from far away at our house. Unfortunately, there were too many trees blocking our view. I promised the kids we’d be back on a better track again next year.
Then, as we were getting ready for bed, our neighbor began setting off their own round of explosives. Like bombs literally bursting in air. They were so loud that each time took us by surprise as the rattle shook the house and we all had to settle our hearts back down beating again. Buzz shot up after one such jolt and summed up best what I believe we all were thinking, if maybe not exactly.
“That’s an angry ghost”, he randomly exclaimed.
Because ghosts, they go boo(m)!
It made as much sense as anything else and I’ve since taken the saying as my own. When the kids won’t go to sleep as quick as I’d like, I’m an angry ghost. Barking dogs at midnight are an angry ghost. Missing fireworks makes us all an angry ghost. Life is full of them, spooked by its own shadow. But sometimes, you need the scare to get your heart back down beating again. Boo(m)!
July 05 2011
My brother and his family came by this past Friday night to belatedly celebrate my birthday. With food and good times along with a present. Because in they came carrying a pink Victoria’s Secret gift bag.
I like Victoria’s Secret. Just not from my brother.
I tried not to fixate on this gift bag as it sat on the coffee table in front of us while we made small talk. And there it stayed while the kids filled every corner around it with play and amusing dance moves. We ate dinner with it directly in front of me, pink tissue paper billowing from the top, and watched I Am Legend. It was difficult to pay attention, however, as this bag kept me captivated from the corner of my eye. But not once did I peek in, because frankly I was scared.
When it was time to open my birthday gift, my brother’s girlfriend must have finally took notice of my trepidation. She explained, “We didn’t get you Victoria’s Secret. It was just the only feminine kind of bag I had.”.
“Oh, phew!”, I responded as my apprehension lightened. “Because that would have been awkward.”
We all had a mighty laugh at just how awkward it could have been as I reached into that Victoria’s Secret bag. And instead of being presented with underwear, however, I was given by my brother an adjustable, handheld “massager”. With, as the package states, a smooth tip and 3 side surfaces for “energizing relief of stress related tension”. For personal use only.
Still a little bit awkward.
