Music To My Ears

We are getting a piano. This weekend we found a "new" used piano that we wanted to buy. My in-laws came over to help us look at pianos and to contribute to the purchase...kind of as an investment in the grandkids. However, I think we will all enjoy the purchase. It is being delivered tomorrow, and I can hardly wait. We originally set up the delivery between 10 and 1, but when they called today to bump it to the 1-4 time slot I was actually disappointed. I know it is only a few hours difference, but I am that excited. I think the piano is beautiful, and it has a lovely full sound. Although it is older, it is in great condition, and it doesn't have that dated ornate looking appearance. It really fits perfect with our taste. So there you have it, another thing in my house for me to be completely anal about. No drinks or food near it, no dirty hands touching it, no banging or pounding on the precious ivories. I am sure I will sound like a broken record, but it will be worth it.

Saying What Needs To Be Said

As an adult, there are certain things I hear myself say, that I NEVER would have dreamed of saying when I was a teenager. I used to be so easily embarrassed, and now, most times I just don't have the time to care what other people think. I remember skulking down the aisles of grocery stores when my mom would throw a package of maxi pads in the cart, making sure I was never present in the checkout lane when they were rang up, because the cashier might actually think those things were for me! But today, I took my dog to get groomed, and since the last time he was cut VERY short, exposing ALL areas of his anatomy I heard myself saying, "Do you think you could leave the hair on his balls?" Hmmm. Never in all my days did I think I would utter a phrase like that. Seriously, the last time I picked up my dog he wouldn't even look at me. I think even he was embarrassed by his exposure. His last haircut just led to way too many questions and suppositions from my children, so I figured it was best to let sleeping dogs lie and keep "them" covered this time. I am happy to say that making such a request, no matter how odd it may have sounded, proved to be worthwhile. He looks great, and all things are hidden that need to be.

I DO have a blog

I feel a little guilty since I haven't blogged in awhile, but I can honestly say that my guilt is less than my level of feeling unwell. I have really been hit hard the last two weeks with strep, strep again, a sinus infection, and a plethora of other ailments that seem to be popping up as well. Usually I am dealing with sick kids, but they have bounced back a lot faster than I have. My head has throbbed for the last week solid, and my teeth still hurt from my sinus infection, and this is while I am on antibiotics. Yes, I admit it. I am having a pity party for myself. I try not to let illness get me down, but I am beat. Unfortunately, my husband has been busier at work than he has been in the last year, so I am not getting any sort of reprieve. As much as I would like to curl up in a ball on my bed, it is just not happening. So, I hope this explains my lack of communicating. Anyway, hang with me for awhile longer.

Is It Any Wonder?

Following my bout of strep I seemed to recover for a few days, but now I am sick again. Frankly, I am getting a little frustrated with not feeling well. I have another sore throat and a persistent and nagging cough. Tonight, while I was giving my kids a bath, my youngest sneezed the largest sneeze possible all over my hand. As I stared at my hand in disgust, I decided it was no mystery why I am the one that gets sick repeatedly. Anyway, today has been the first day that I have felt like even looking at a computer. Regular blogging should resume shortly.

I Can Make You Thin

Tonight I watched a television show that tauted the promise "I can make you thin." The four golden rules to weight loss were:

-When you are hungry, eat.
-Eat what you want.
-Eat consciously (i.e. without distraction and slowly).
-When you think you are full-stop.

Interesting concepts, but they seem a little too good to be true. The jury is still out as to whether I have wasted an hour of my life by watching this show, but the host had some valid points. I may give it a try this week just to see. Lately, I have been in such an anti-diet mood. I just haven't been able to stay on the bandwagon. I will start the week dieting, and end it in surrender, usually to a food item that I was depriving myself of at the beginning of the week. As for the golden rules laid out on this program I don't think I will have any problem accomplishing rules one and two, but three and four will need some work. I can't remember the last time I ate without distraction. I may need to start eating by myself if I want to accomplish that feat. And I never eat slowly for the mere fact that I know I am going to be interrupted at any moment. It seems like the second I sit down to eat someone else in my family expresses an immediate and urgent need. Therefore, I inhale my food. At any rate I was intrigued. If you are interested in reading more about this for yourself here is the link that will lead you into a weight loss revolution, maybe. http://www.mckenna.com/

You Oughta Be in Pictures

Last night, as I was making dinner, I hear my youngest child howling for me. I walk into the family room and ask, "What happened?" My youngest was supposed to be cleaning up the mess in that room, and upon my arrival it looked just as bad as it had ten minutes prior. I turn to my child and see tears pouring and arm clutching, followed by a wail of, "I hurt my arm." I lean down to inspect the offending appendage, and nothing appears to be wrong; no redness, no cut, no visible bruising. So I asked, voice full of concern, "What exactly happened to your arm?" Through pathetic sobs my youngest says, "I tired it out doing all this cleaning!" Hiding my smile, I leaned down, kissed my little one's head and said, "Nice try, Sweetie Pie. You are still cleaning up this room." Immediately, the tears stop, and my youngest stomps away from me, declaring in exasperation, "Awww Man!" Little con artist.

The Easter Bunny

The other day I found this letter written by my eldest to the Easter Bunny. I am typing it in exactly as it was written.

Hello easter bunny,

Thank you for the stuff.
I have met you before.
I love you becos you are you.

Love,
me

p.s. I am real.

I have to wonder if the postscript was added because my child is looking for validation that the Easter Bunny is also real. I haven't had to field any questions yet about his reality, but I am just waiting for them to start coming. I was asked however, if the Easter Bunny had to visit as many places as Santa Claus. My eldest seemed skeptical that this was possible, because after all the Easter Bunny does not have elf helpers. So, I tap danced around that and said only the people that believed in Jesus and his resurrection believed in the true meaning of Easter, and therefore the Easter Bunny only visited them. Many less people than Santa Claus. The sacrilege! Some days I wonder if it is worth the farce when I have to create these fanciful details about the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, and the Tooth Fairy, but I hold onto the rationale that they are not children for long, so why not let them have their fun?

As for thanking the Easter Bunny for "the stuff"in the letter, I am guessing that my smart little cookie thinks a belated Thank You note for last year's goodies is better than nothing, plus it will seal the deal for more "stuff" this year.

Sick Day

Strep. Headache. Cough. Blah!

That's it for me today.

It's All About Punctuality

My kids have a penchant for understatements. My husband and I were talking about his job, and the type of work he does, and he said that most jobs around here would be relatively similar in scope. He proceeded to say that unless he went to work for a place like Disney World he could probably expect to do the same type of thing day in and day out. Of course, my children's ears perk up at the mention of Disney World. My eldest asked, "Is Daddy going to work at Disney World?" I said, "Well if he did something like that we would have to move to Florida." I expected protestations, because my eldest really likes being close to family and friends. Instead I get, "Well yeah, Mom. Otherwise, he would be really late to work."

Stroke of Genius

We have been battling pink eye the last two days. My youngest woke up yesterday with an eye completely matted shut. Despite warnings to wash hands and limit contact, my eldest woke up with pink eye this morning, and my youngest now has it in both eyes. I am treating both of them with eye drops, but I still issue warnings and cautions about contact and cleanliness which continually fall on deaf ears. Why do I bother? I suppose it is because I am a mother, and there is some sort of innate mechanism which forces me to believe that my repeated warnings will eventually breakthrough. Tonight, my husband watched my children getting in each other's faces, and he heard my pleas of desperation. Finally, he looked at me and said, "Why don't we just tell them to lick each other's eyeballs and be done with it". That is how ridiculously careless they were being. Later in the evening, my youngest came charging toward me with a viewmaster toy and said, "Look mommy, an elephant!" And what do I do? I put that thing up to MY eyes and look. Brilliant, no? I am praying I don't wake up with pink eye in the morning.

Good Idea Gone Bad

Why does working on projects around the house always sound like a great idea BEFORE you actually start them? For four years my husband and I have been staring at ugly gold walls in our bedroom. Walls that were painted so poorly that streaks of the color that preceded the gold (maybe blue or green?) were visible through the paint. Every other room in this house has been painted at least once since we moved in, so I finally decided to bite the bullet and paint our room. Of course, the fact that my in-laws are coming this weekend and staying in our room was a nice motivator. I began yesterday with cheerful enthusiasm, because I could envision how great my room would look once it was done. Two hours into my project that enthusiasm waned to tolerance, and four hours in I was struggling with back pain and grumbling about my misplaced ambition. What was I thinking? I hate painting! What is more, I would like to note a personal pet peeve. I implore anyone that is ever tempted to paint, to please, please, pull out a screwdriver first, and remove the outlet plates. It is not hard, and all plates can be removed in under five minutes, unless of course the heartless boob that lived in the house before you painted over them. That was my predicament. And thanks to the previous owner's laziness, I have managed to pry off a good amount of plaster along with the aforementioned outlet plates. Grrrrrr. But the room is done, with the exception of the doors. I will conquer those tomorrow, and then I will wait at least another six months before I tackle another home project that involves painting. By that time I will probably have forgotten how much it makes my back hurt.

The All Knowing Mom

The other day I told my eldest that we needed to get some chores done. I left the room for a moment, and when I returned my eldest was nowhere to be seen. However, I noticed that my living room curtains were all bunched together in the middle behind our couch. Instantly, I said, "Just because you are hiding behind the couch does not mean you are going to get out of doing chores." My eldest popped up, "Mom, How did you know where I was?" Figuring it was in my best interests not to reveal the power of my observational skills I simply said, "Because Moms know everything. Now get to work."

Then last night we were sitting at the dinner table, and my eldest said, "Mom, guess what my favorite word beginning with 'R' is?" Tired and in little mood to play games I guessed halfheartedly. "Red?", "Run?", "Read?" None of those were correct. Then my eldest asked, "Guess what my favorite 'M' word is?" I jokingly said, "Mom?" Nope, that wasn't right either. My eldest studied me intently and said accusingly, "Mom, I thought you were supposed to know EVERYTHING. You said that the other day." Blast! I was caught in my own web of deceit. Instead of owning up to my fallacy, I said, "Well it only works when Moms aren't tired, and I am very tired tonight, so that is why I can't do this game well." I figure my children will find out sooner or later that I don't know everything, but in the meantime I like to think that they will believe that it is completely pointless to try and "pull one over on me".