let's just cut to the chase

I'm embarrassed to admit this, but I felt pretty drained after searching for the perfect gift for Henry's classmates for his birthday. So, three weeks later, I just didn't care anymore what he put in his Valentine's cards. I drove to the nearest Dollar Store and bought these tiny little compass rings.

I suck.

These stupid compass rings stand for so much of what I hate: buying junk and giving people crap.

Remember when it was easy (and oh, the horror...possibly edible) and you could just scotch tape a sucker onto your card?

So, what was my favorite piece of crap from Henry's Valentine's cards from yesterday?

Yep, the Valentine card that just cut to the chase.

The one that wasn't crap at all... it was the one with a quarter taped on.


How I adore her parents right now.

It says "instead of me buying junk, I'm going to give you money, the money I would have spent on whatever."

Brilliant!

Of course, Henry, right away, wondered what he could buy with a quarter.

crap

the bigger the snack, the harder the fall

The most vivid lie I remember ever telling my parents was about me and a Rubik's cube. I sat in a swivelled chair, facing the corner, peeling colored stickers off and placing them back in right color order. I ran to my mom shouting that I 'did it myself!'. Though it was probably so obvious to my parents; the nail scratches, the corners pushed up, I thought at four years old, I'd gotten away with it.

I thought 'my parents officially know I am a genius.'

It took me over a week to finally admit to lying to them. (Or at least it felt like a week, I was 4 for goodness sakes, details are fuzzy.)

But yes, I was one stubborn genius child (a trait that my husband would say has only gotten stronger with age).

::

So, Wyatt sat in his seat from preschool going on and on about 'how hungry he was'. He then paused and started to tell me about how he didn't get a snack. Then he decided that wasn't enough, but that the whole school didn't get a snack.

He tells me "No one got a snack today, Mom. No one! No one in my classroom, no one in any of the classrooms!" He motions along with this like it's the end of the world.

I thought it was pretty strange, I mean, I pay $180 a month for a snack to be included, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. "Really?" I replied. "Don't you guys usually have a snack? Did you run out of time?

It was like I was his pawn... "Yes!" he shouted, "we ran out of time!".

"You must be starving then, I'll fix lunch as fast as I can." I respond.

I think I could physically see him deflate from the backseat.

Unknown to me, his plan for a snack before lunch didn't work. He reacted badly to this news. He started to get mad at stuff that well, usually makes him mad.

"My shirt is all wet (sobbing), I HATE my shirt! Why did you pick out this shirt for me?"

I snapped, "don't say hate and why in the world is your shirt all wet?"

"I spilled all my water," Wyatt whined back.

"Well, when did you have water?" I asked.

"At snack time"... that sort of tapers off to not being audible.

busted

Turns out it was even a huge snack, with granola bars, string cheese and water, which sort of makes me even a little bit more mad. The bigger the snack, the harder the fall.

So, Wyatt sat on the step in a time out as I made lunch. As he climbed the stairs after the timer went off, I then told him the story of my lie of pulling off the stickers of the Rubik's cube.

And when I finished, when I hoped for this big ah-ha moment from Wyatt, all he wanted to know 'why in the world would I have told the truth?'

Apparently, getting away with a lie would have been way more impressive to the storyline.

I heart you, literally

I imagine his preschool teachers plopped papers, paints and brushes on the table and told the table full of four year olds, "this week we are talking about Valentines. You know, love and hearts and all that kind of stuff..."

They continue "Could you all paint some beautiful hearts for your moms and dads for this upcoming Valentines? I'm sure your parents will love it!"

And they were right; I do, I love it.

Wyatt painted my heart...


and my stomach and those 'wiggly things' (intestines, I'm assuming, though there is no doubt he would correct me if not).

I have a feeling this child has my sense of humor.

::

My sweet Wyatt, I heart you too,

literally.

a tutorial worth pinning

I know many of you will be asking me to post this up on Pinterest so you can get a step-by-step tutorial on how to get the perfect family photo (after seeing my previous family photo), but I haven't succumbed to pinning stuff, just yet, so a blog post will have to suffice. My apologies.

So, have your family go to Chuck E. Cheese. (No remarks on the cleanliness level of your Chuck E. Cheese, please.)

Deposit one coin into the sketch photo booth thing with half your family members.

Next, deposit a second coin with the other half of your family members. (Remember to point clearly to where the camera is and where it isn't.)

Smile.

Trim to fit, scotch tape together and there you have it.

The perfect family photo... for the cost of only two coins (and perhaps your sanity as children around you are screaming about you taking too long in the photo booth).

half-assed, half marathon

There are things in our lives that make us think "oh, crap, what did I just get myself into". This just happens to be one of those things...

I signed up for a half marathon.

eek

Having to just say the word marathon freaks me out a bit. OK, more that just a bit, but I'm just going to concentrate on the half part.

The logical side of me was like this:

"It says right here that walkers are welcomed, as long as I can finish in 4 hours... I can finish in 4 hours, umm, right?"

"And the site says the course is slopey (or something to me that reads 'not too hilly'). I like flat runs."

"I'll get a medal if I finish. I like medals too."

"I can put one of those 13.1 miles stickers on my minivan... no one will have to know that I walked the whole thing"

"I just dropped 80 bucks on this race, there is no way that I can back out. (That's the same price as a new microwave!)"

So, I'm doing a half marathon, more for the medal and the bumper sticker than anything, but still... I'm doing it. (I think)

And yes, should I reiterate what so many others say? "If I can do it, so can you!" Especially if you plan on finishing just under the 4 hour, closing it down, mark with me.

Not that I've done 'it' yet.

'It' being the half-assed, half marathon.

Hold me.

life cycle

This is my microwave, kicked to the curb, though not really a curb (and technically, not really kicked), but thrown into the screened in porch in a fit of anger, where I pray that it get frozen over and covered with at least 12" of snow very shortly. "Take that!"

You might be asking (or not care, but will scroll through anyways), but why?

Because the damn thing died on me after, maybe, 3 years... and that pisses me off for several reasons. Let me list them for you in numerical order, it will be fun:

1) I swear, my parents had their first microwave for like 20 years. It was bigger than my toddler, a dark, ugly, brown color, and it made a strange humming noise, but it lasted forever. Math people, 20 years is way more than 3. Heck, I'm not even sure it died on them or that my parents just got tired of looking at it.

2) There are only a few things that I need for my daily survival, Diet Coke and my microwave are two of them. Being that it quit working in the morning, I had to cancel all plans for that evening to go out and buy a new microwave, not to mention, I had to waste my time online, during nap time when I should be napping working, looking for the best deals on microwaves.

3) I bought (almost) the cheapest microwave out there because our kitchen is on (a not really ever happening) time schedule of being redone, where we get a fancy over-the-range microwave, so I don't really see a point in spending a significant amount of money.

4) I will have to throw this stinkin' broken microwave in the back of my minivan and drive to some suburb that might as well be in Nebraska and pay $30 to recycle it properly, when I just spent $60 on the new microwave... something doesn't add up to me on this. I need some smart person's ratio of time to cost calculation, but you get the point. I feel like I'm getting ripped off.

and finally

5) Just knowing that the new microwave is going to stop working in 2 to 3 years and that I get to repeat this lovely cycle again just stabs me right in the heart.

::

Would it sound oh, so old of me to say 'they don't make them like they use to.'?

I think I can feel my parents laughing at me right now.

eye of the beholder

She usually wakes up singing, something along the lines of 'hi', then she changes it an octave and says it again 'hi'. Maybe a little louder, it depends on her mood. She jumps up and down in her crib, holding onto the side railing, screeching the already well-worn springs. She's literally just jumping at the chance to start her morning.

But this morning, she woke up with snot smeared across her face, her hair standing up on end on the left hand side, her breath not at all that sweet baby smell we all dream about.

It was an actual temperature of negative 7 this morning, perhaps she knew.


Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, right?

My snotty beauty.

Me getting a good laugh every time I look at this photo on my phone, that's pretty beautiful too.