Sick of socal rain…

Posted by houndrat on Tuesday Oct 19, 2010 Under kids

image

Rain, rain go away. Come again some other day. Or not.

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A profound New Year’s Eve conversation with my son

Posted by houndrat on Wednesday Dec 31, 2008 Under family life, kids, Uncategorized

son? “I want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, please”

me:? “What?? You want a peanut-booger and jelly sandwich?? Coming right up!”

son, shrieking:? “EWWWW!? That’s gross!? I don’t want a peanut-booger and jelly sandwich—I only eat boogers straight from my nose!”

Silly mom.?

Happy New Year, everyone.? May your sandwich and your nose? remain booger-free.?

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Just lock me in a padded cell.  Please. Because the enormity of my decision to leave? the kids with hubby? while attending the annual Ridgeback Specialty is starting to sink in.? And the deeper it sinks, the more obvious it becomes that I have utterly and completely lost my mind.

Any mother with even an ounce of sanity would spend her first kid-free days in over a year doing something relaxing. Like soaking in a spa while eating bon bons and getting a foot massage by a young Antonio Banderas doppelganger.  Or lounging on a squeezably soft yet tasteful comforter at the Four Seasons while ordering room service and reading trashy novels, only venturing out to float on a raft in the pool while sipping a strawberry margarita.? ? Or perhaps even sending the kids away so she could hole up in the house ALONE while eating Dulce de Leche Haagen Dazs and watching endless reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Veronica Mars.

But apparently all my sanity was sucked away into? the black hole of? motherhood long,? long ago.? Because instead of doing any of those things, I’ve chosen to squander my hard-earned freedom at a dog show.? Where the dogs will be pampered more than I.? This wonderful trip involves me flying on a red-eye (read, no sleep whatsoever) and arriving? at 6:00 a.m.–just in time to shower and throw on some show clothes so I can take the Ferganator into the ring.? Where instead of humiliating me with her naughty antics in front of just a few local Ridgeback folks, she’ll get to take on the whole nation.? Then, there’s the endless pottying of dogs, exercising of dogs, grooming of dogs (okay, so at least with Ridgebacks, the grooming part is? pretty brief–thank god I didn’t choose Samoyeds), before staying up late at the Top 20 event, followed all too quickly by the next show morning, where I will attempt to split myself in two so that I can show multiple dogs and puppies in stud dog and brood bitch.? Speaking of which, maybe I should just enter myself in the latter category.? Think I’d have a shot?? My kids are pretty cute, if lacking in ring demeanor.? Which basically is to say they’ll fit right in with the rest of the crew I show.

And then for the grand finale, I get to drag my kid-free butt out of bed at? 4:30 a.m. so I can have the supreme honor of driving 50 miles to the lure coursing field,? because nothing says relaxing like being? dragged willy-nilly across a dirty old field by four absolutely bunny-crazed Ridgebacks.? And of course, there’s the peaceful event of chasing the especially naughty ones down after the course is over.? To add to my vacation, I’m sure I’ll fall a few times, as well as almost pass out from the humidity.? Oh, and lets not forget that during this entire “vacation”, I’ll be pumping at least four times a day.

And then there’s the return home, where my house will surely look like a condemned property inhabited by one hundred transients and ten families of rats upon my arrival.

So, please, lock me up.? And make sure you do it before 7:37 p.m. Otherwise, save me a strawberry margarita? (or five) in Pennsylvania–I think I’m going to need them!

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Yes, I realize these photos are long overdue, but I’ve been BUSY, people.? First, with the still flowing copious amounts of snot, and second, with the posting of hideous ancient photos of old friends on facebook.? Just because I can.

At any rate, here is the damage that hubby managed to inflict on our home while mommy was away.? Mind you he was watching two very small children at the time, children I’d like to keep for awhile longer.? Even given the feisty mouth on the older model.

Just in case you needed to see it from another angle:

And here’s a little something to warm? every mother’s? heart—a close up of? the particularly? large and undoubtedly deadly piece of glass hanging out with? your daughter’s ride-on toy:

Of course, then there’s the part where my husband reaches INTO THE BROKEN GLASS–HELLO!!!—and nearly becomes intimately acquainted with the trials and tribulations of being a four-fingered man.?

Apparently, my son, upon viewing hubby’s gushing finger, asks, “Daddy, are you going to die?”

My hubby of course tells him no, he’s fine, to which son matter-of-factly replies, “No, you’re not.? I’m pretty sure? you’re going to die.”?

Ah, such a glass is half-empty kind of kid—he does his mama proud.? Although, given the carnage, can you really blame him?

?

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Bunco woes

Posted by houndrat on Friday Aug 8, 2008 Under family life, husbands, kids, Uncategorized

I had my monthly Bunco game last night.? Although supposedly a dice game, what Bunco really represents is a thinly veiled excuse for a bunch of women to? escape from the old homestead and drink beer (and in last night’s case, margaritas and Mojitos).? Our group consists mostly of moms which basically means our games? rate higher? on the obnoxious and beer drinking scales by a factor of ten.?

So after unwinding and enjoying girl talk for a few hours, I stumble into my house at about? 11:15 p.m, ready to crash into my bed.? Only to discover this:

Hello there, big pile of trash on my floor.? Here’s? a closer view:

Either a cyclone hit my house while I was nonchalantly slinging dice at Bunco or my hubby and son? decided to play a few rounds of recycling man and failed to tidy up.

Talk about a buzz kill.

?

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Wordless Wednesday…Let sleeping dogs, er, babies, lie

Posted by houndrat on Tuesday Jul 29, 2008 Under babies, dogs, kids, wordless wednesday

Oops–just a few words first.? Don’t forget to enter my contest–it ends Thursday night (and a new one will begin).

As far as WW goes, Just call me indecisive…..

Babies…

Dogs:

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This morning was pirate dress-up day at preschool.? And water play day.? I suppose the two are compatible—after all, pirates did live on ships most of their lives.? Still, I felt a little strange having my son don striped pirate breeches over his blue and orange plaid bathing suit.? I mean, what would Stacey and Clinton think?

We picked up his friend on the way, which always makes for an interesting experience.? Here are just a few scintillating snippets of conversation? from the seemingly never-ending car ride (Note:? preschool is about two minutes from my house).

“Ahoy there, you scarfy dogs!”? (These being the? scurvy dogs’ more fashionable cousins, presumably.)

“Baby sister, quit being so full of happiness!”? (Ah, a budding Morrissey.)

“Go faster, mommy, go faster!”? (He won’t be allowed to drive until he’s thirty.)

“Yeah, Miss Debra, go fast!”? (Ditto his friend.)

Son:? “We’re going faster than a walking piece of nothing!”? (I wasn’t sure if I should take offense, or? if this was some sort of preschooler existentialism.? And how exactly does this relate to pirates?)

Friend:? “We’re going faster than poop plopping down from the sky!”? (Now, that’s an analogy I haven’t heard before, but I suppose plopping sky poop would be quite speedy.? ? Though I’m still not sure what any of this has to do with pirates.? Or Gordon Lightfoot, for that matter.)

Then of course, the inevitable round of “Quit touching me!”? “No, you QUIT touching ME!”? And so on, until my head? demanded? an IV of Extra Strength Tylenol.

You know, Wordless Thursday really has a nice ring to it……

And here’s the pirate swag my son created and brought home.? I’m? thinking less swashbuckler, and more, I dunno, Liberace meets Dead or Alive, maybe?? And the apple stickers are throwing me off a little.? ?

Unless? the? pirates ate them to fight off “scarfy”:

?

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Wordless Wednesday…..Dogs and kids

Posted by houndrat on Wednesday Jul 16, 2008 Under babies, dogs, kids, wordless wednesday

….and just in the nick of time!

“Hound dogs make the best friends”

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I don’t know how you spent your last few minutes of awake time last night, but I’m reasonably certain they weren’t squandered discussing the merits of Gordon Lightfoot.? Me?? Not so lucky.?

Here’s how it happened: Hubby and I are getting ready? for bed, and at a decent hour for a change. Not that we’ve been up partying and closing down the bars lately.? But in our baby-driven lives, even eleven o’clock is pushing it.

Just as I’m fluffing my pillow and channeling Doris Day by pulling on my pink satin mask (it was cheaper than black-out shades), disaster strikes.? Because instead of the hum of our white-noise maker (okay, so it’s really just a humidifier sans filter and water–call me MacGyver)? I hear hubby’s voice.?

The talking is? brief enough at first—a few questions about facebook and linkedin, and who he’s reconnected with so far.? Then, mysteriously,? the topic? jumps from old college friends to Phish concerts to, of all things, Gordon Lightfoot.? No, I really have no idea how that’s possible, either.? But those kind of? random neuron firings? happen all too frequently around here.? Maybe it’s the 60′s coming back to haunt me.? Which is mildly perplexing, since I wasn’t born until the 70′s.

Of course, then? hubby? has to look good old Gordon up on the computer.? I mean, how could? one possibly? be expected to ever sleep again until they were reminded of which songs he sang,? songs that most likely held the talent and longevity of a Milli Vanilli number?? So hubby grabs his handy-dandy laptop, only it’s not so handy-dandy because the battery is shot so it always requires a plug, as does mine, come to think of it, and then we’re in business.?

I was pleasantly surprised to? discover that Mr. Lightfoot actually sang some pretty good stuff, including Sundown and If You Could Read My Mind.? So, after wasting even more precious snoozing time listening to samples of his music, then looking up the lyrics to Sundown (what did he say in that line about “sneaking” again?), we finally settle in for bed.

And it’s still only 10: 20 pm, so we’re in good shape. Until hubby starts in with some Connor-isms from earlier that evening.? How this relates to Gordon Lightfoot, I have no idea—hence the emphasis on random neuron firings.? Apparently, my son was having a little chat about swear words.? Connor told hubby that he could start? using some? bad words? when he turned? five.? When my hubby inquired which words those might be, Connor says, “Stupid.”?

Upon hearing that, hubby heaved a sigh of relief, which was short-lived.? “…And f*ck,”? Connor continues, disingenuously.

? I wasn’t there, so I can only imagine the sound of my husband’s jaw slamming onto the concrete and his eyes popping out of his sockets and flying across the garage.? I mean, hubby and I have been known to utter the occasional “butt-munch” or “fart-knocker” at home (and yes, maybe I’ve? spewed forth with? “jackass” a few times while driving), but our profanity pretty much stops there.? But Connor has bionic ears, so who knows.

Hubby said it took him a moment, but he finally came up with, “No, that one’s not okay until you’re at least eighteen.”

Connor apparently thought about it for a moment, then smiled and said, “Or ten.”

After that, of course, all bets for sleep are off, as I’m left pondering how I’m going to convince my son that the “f” word is only legal for use once you’ve reaching voting age.

And I still don’t get what any of this has to do with Gordon Lightfoot.

?

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Bravo TV or baker? You decide….

Posted by houndrat on Friday Jun 27, 2008 Under family life, kids

This morning, we’re laying in bed watching cartoons, listening to JoJo tell us we’re going to do some things with? our bodies that feel really good.? Yeah, I don’t really know what the? writers were thinking either.? Suffice it to say that JoJo’s Circus will not be making the leap to PBS anytime soon.

? Randomly, my son turns to me? and says, “Mommy, when I grow up, can I be a baker’s man?”?

? My first thought?? Wow, we’ve got to cut back on the Bravo TV.? Then it dawned on me.? He meant baker, not baker’s man.? As in chef.? My second thought?? Much, much more profound.? As in,? Score!? Please, please, please, major in desserts.

Later, though, I find him standing in the shower, naked, tousling his hair.? “All done?” I ask.? “Almost,” he replies.? “First, I’ve got to fix my hair, so that I’m pretty.”? He pats it a few more times and proclaims, ? “There!? I look good!”

I’m thinking about canceling our cable.? Or at least, all Bravo programming.

On the plus side?? At least he didn’t say “fierce”.

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