The Big Dig

God help me, I've started cleaning Ben's room.  Everyone thinks her kid has a messy room, but Ben's room causes one to think of the word "rubble."  It's like an excavation project except that instead of one of those little sieves and a brush, my tools are rubber gloves and a big black contractor bag.  Here is "before":





Routinely, I'd find him sleeping in a tiny "clean" spot on the bed, surrounded by crap, with a towel or something pulled over his legs b/c his covers were all on the floor.  That's probably bad, huh?  Thing is, I HATE to nag.  I hate to have to ride them to clean up, I just want them to magically have inherited some (clearly recessive) clean gene.  Anyway, it had gotten to the point that he was asking to sleep in Lily's as-yet-unoccupied room b/c his room kinda creeps him out.  He claims that it is "too big," but mostly I think the chaos just bums him out.  So I plunged in.  As of this evening, I just have stuff in bins, out from under the furniture, floor swept, bedding in the laundry.

Some highlights of the adventure.  This was in his little doorway to the porch:


I don't want to know.

I also found this, which is a whiskey bottle containing a plastic straight-razor, a policeman, and some foam:

I'm thinking we slap a title on it, like "The straight Blue Line" or something and submit it to an art show.

The Mystery of the Plastic Cups was solved when 10 were dug out of the debris.  The washing machine is off the hook for the Mysterious Sock Disappearances b/c there was an ENORMOUS pile in Ben's room.  The reunion of the socks after they're laundered will be a tearful one.  Unless the washer DOES eat them.

So, I must continue the Big Dig.  And I'm on the hook for making his bed look like a pirate ship.  I'm such an idiot.

Here, let someone else entertain you for a while

Mommybloggers sent around some questions (like what song you'd want played as you entered the ring in a prizefight) and is posting answers over the holiday weekend.  Turns out LOTS of people would like one of those limo screens to cut off the noise from the back of the minivan.  yes please.

http://www.mommybloggers.com/

The Who! The Who!

She got mad that I wouldn't play Kids of Catan NOW, not later Mommy NOW!  NOOOOWWWW!  NOWWWWWWWW!  Steve escorted her to her very own room and tried to help her calm down.  She was having NONE of it, so he left.  She went totally Keith Moon on the place (which I might point out, she's only had for a few days, so it was pristine), yanking her dresses off their hangars, upending the My Little Pony basket, the Baby stuff basket, the Random Crap basket.  Flinging them about like monkey feces.  Just a total temper-tantrum tornado.  Apparently, it was something to see, complete with lying on the ground kicking and banging with fists.  She's done her reading, I see.  I didn't see it, I was downstairs, looking for the gin.

And now, this morning, I held her hand as she hopped down each step, saying "hop" each time.  Her cute little bob haircut flopped up and down.  Her little hops so precise.  She was just totally in the moment of the hops.  She was leading me downstairs so that I could tuck in her "pretend friend."  "She doesn't feel very well, so I'm giving her my shake.  Well, I'm sharing it with her."  I went over to the chair where there was a pillow, a blanket, and a shake.   I said, "What do you need me to do?" 
"Fix her blanket, please."  She noted my hesitation, "the shake is not my friend." 
Ah.  "Is she on the pillow?" 
"yes."
 So I arranged the covers around the friend and asked her name.  I expected it to be Karen, since that is Lily's name of choice (and I know Julianna and Ben had them too, and cannot for the LIFE of me remember them.  I suck.  Mine was Cindy, though.  I remember that), but no.  She said, "Princess....Mommy."
 So I tucked Princess Mommy in snugly.  "We want another TV show."
 "Oh, and what would your friend like to see?"
 "She likes the same things I do." 
"Convenient.  And what would that be?"
  "Little Einsteins.  We want the balloon one because we like balloons."  And TV watching enables mommy to go type it all in.

Pretty feet!

...or at least bizarro feet...

In looking for a pair of shoes to go with my Holiday Party dress, I came across these lovely creatures:

Steve rightly described them as looking like a Chinese New Year Dragon, and then amended to say it REALLY looked like that dog thing from The Neverending Story.

This was a customer review:
" Oooh my god!!! I've seen three people walk down the street in these on a Thursday in California. The next week, I saw about ten. These are becoming even more popular by the day!!!"

If I could walk in a 3 inch heel, I'd totally get them.  I mean, how could I resist bringing these to the East Coast?  And the children could keep them as pets after the party.

How to play while sleeping

Same story every night.  Parents are beat, used up, shattered, worthless.  Kids want to PLAY.  Tonight is Friday night, which means Steve will be home...eventually.   Lily, who woke many, many times last night, has been a bit weepy and rather 3.  But she really wants to play a game.  I really don't.

"Pweeeeeze!  You pwomised!!"

"I did no such thing."

"Yes you did!!!"

(crap, did I?  I mean, she natters at me while I'm doing other things and I say things like "uh huh" and "sure" without really hearing or remembering) "I"m not playing a game."

tears.  Then: "Can play my magic tricks?"

Oh yes, THAT I can play.  This "game" means that I lay on the bed while she does "magic tricks"--namely,  she leaps and spins and flops on the bed.  My only role is to say, "Wow!" and cringe when it looks like she's going to land on my head.  Not only does she feel like we're playing a game together, she gets tired.  Whee!

Magic Tricks evolves into Peek-a-boo 401: Senior Seminar.  She's 3 now, so she doesn't go for the ol' hands over the face peek-a-boo anymore.  Well, not often.  Now, I have to pretend to sleep (not a stretch) and periodically peep up over a pillow with one eye.  And you know what's best?  She likes it even more if I make it suspenseful by stretching out the time in between peeks.  If I can get the space long enough, I might catch up on my sleep yet.  So I'm peeking and she's giggling and suddenly goes:

"Oh no!  We woke up the Indians!" (the hell?  where did THAT come from?  And are we talking Ghandi or Tonto Indians here?)

"Well," I say,"We'd better make them some coffee or they're going to be grumpy."

"I think they'd like tea instead.  I'll go make it.  You stay here."  no problemo.
She comes back with a pillow.  "Oh, they liked the tea.  They're happy now."
  Again, she's scurrying around, playing with mom and I'm just laying there, beat. Win-win.

Which reminds me of me of the other low effort/ high reward parent game, I've been meaning to write it down for ages, so that I can weep over the memory when I'm old...Lumpy Pillow.  This one's been a huge hit for a few years.  Kid hides under some bedding (and by "hides" I mean "sticks face under"), parent comes in and says in a theatrical voice "I am SO tired.  I think I'll just lay down. " Yaaaawwwn and lay down on kid, who giggles, albeit muffled-ly. "This pillow is SO lumpy!" plump up "pillow", tickling child in process.  Kid giggles more.  "WHAT?!?  That's no lumpy pillow!  That's Julianna! (or Ben! or Lily! or whatever your kids' name is!)"  They could do this until they cracked a rib.  And parent gets a wee snooze, even if the pillow IS a bit lumpy.

Even better

My mistake.  Sitting in the car line, Lily asked for "that snake song."  Huh?  "you know, the snake song.  "I wuv snakes, yeah yeah...wuv snakes, yeah yeah."

well, at least it isn't Barney

I picked up a CD of music from "The Wedding Singer"--all 80s stuff.  Now Lily's walking around singing "Wuv stinks...yeah yeah....Wuv stinks, yeah yeah"

home show hell

Ah, home shows.  Every stay-at-home mom's heaven or hell.  When Julianna was little, I got invited to scads of these things--Discovery Toys, DK books, Pampered Chef, Partylites, Homes for Living, and on and on. It seemed there was this circle of women who just invited one another to their parties.  I very seldom went b/c party games give me a rash.  Luckily, they seem to have eaten themselves tail first or something, and most of this has passed.  I've tortured my own friends with Pampered Chef, but hey--no games and you get fed, so quitcher bitchin.  Last night, I drove up to Stacey's for a "Premier Jewelry" party.  She had a really cool necklace she'd gotten at a show and I'm always up for wine and cheese and hanging w/my best bud, so I went.

Not my taste.  It looked like department store jewelry.  And there were games.  The hostess looked like Kim Catrall, so I kept waiting for her to say fuck about 8 zillion times, but she behaved her gittery top and skin-tight capris with pointy shoes self.  She uses a curling iron and she's under 50.  Odd.  Also, she had that weird blonde on top, black on the bottom hair, like that old Tuesday doll with the scalp you could twirl?  Well, I do, but she's rare as hen's teeth on google.  The best I can do given the amount of time I'm willing to put in. 

So anyway, back to my "story."  She was selling jewelry but also gave "fashion tips."  She was teaching us how to wear scarves, for whatever reason.  We were assured that if we'd been out gardening in an old T shirt, and suddenly needed to go to the store for milk, we could just toss on a scarf (that we keep in our car for JUST such an occasion) and we'd be totally dressed up!  I had trouble picturing Samantha gardening at all, so I'm thinking she hasn't really considered how odd one would look in dirty jeans, a sweatstained computer company gimme T and a chic silk scarf tied in a rosette...  I'm sure it'll work, though, if I wear earrings too.  "We should always wear earrings," she told us.  She also told us how to wear scarf belts to "elongate our lines!"  A scarf belt.  On the sagging baby bellies of 40 year old women.   I had the fortune of  sitting between two 60+ women who appreciated my muttered-under-the-breath snark.  They weren't signing up for scarf belts either.  The games.  There was some dumb ass passing a candy cane left and right thing that everyone knew how to play and I figured out fairly quickly, thanks to my expensive college education.  Painless enough.   Then she wanted us to play some stupid thing where she asked questions and if the answer was yes you had to move one space to the right.  Look cupcake,  I'm 38 years old.  I have 3 kids under 9, none of whom went to school today.  It's 8:30 at night and I've had a glass of wine.  I am not moving.  leave.me.alone.  Sell the damn jewelry already.  jeez.  I know she wished I'd go away.  She kept pitching her sale right to me, 'though I was the least interested party there.  I'll buy something.  Stacey is my friend and she bought crap at MY stupid party.  but please, please, don't ask me to be wacky.  please.  I'm going to go get more brie.  You guys carry on.

And of course, as I do, I spent the whole drive home trying to think of a way I could make money by doing this better.  People seemed to like the idiot fashion tips.  What if I did a What Not To Wear home show...I could tell fat women to stop wearing striped tunics and leggings.  I could tell people to wear comfortable clothes that make them feel good instead of what the teeny girls on the OC are wearing.  I could encourage grownups to dress like grownups...But crap, what can I SELL?   I need a scheme, people.

Gah! so many pictures!

Well fiddle.  I swear it all gets away from me.  Okay, first: The horse show was fun.  Every time a horse cleared a jump, Lily lept up and shouted YAY!  and clapped her hands.  Everyone else is silent.  Lily thinks the horses could use some cheering.  So stop glaring at her, you wrinkled old prune.

Next.  Halloween was fun.
 Revolutionary War soldier (no, you may not carry a gun.  Well, you'll just have to be one of the unarmed guys.)


And I don't have a good one of just Lily or Julianna, so here are Brooke, Molly, Lily and Julianna.  Lily is a Ballerina Fairy (duh) and Julianna is an Arachnid Fairy:



And then we went hiking today and it was gorgeous, but those pics will have to wait, people.  I have a life you know.