A few months ago my dad gave Milo a piece of gum, "because he asked for it." Now when George and Goldie get gum he screams until he gets a piece as well. This is embarrassing at playdates when other parents ask if my one-year old is really chewing gum. George wasn't allowed to have gum until he was five. So, I have to explain that it's my dad's fault and that Milo doesn't really swallow it (usually).
I hope Milo never asks my dad for a cigarette because that's going to be another tough one to explain.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
New Feature: Why I'm the Worst Mom in The World
I've reached a new all time low in my parenting skills.
A few years ago my parents took George and Goldie on an outing and they came back with two fish, which George named Nardy and Facewipe.
I have always hated these fish.
They keep dying and I keep replacing them as soon as George notices they are missing. Sometimes it takes months and sometimes it takes days.
Because George loves these fish I can't stand the thought of telling him they died so I just replace them as appropriate.
This morning when I woke up Nardy (or maybe Facewipe) was lying in the fetal position gasping for air, or water, or whatever fish gasp for. Clearly he was about to die... Again!
On our walk to school today I gently asked George if we could maybe set the fish free and let them live to their full potential in a pond somewhere. George looked as though he was about to cry, so hours later I'm back at the pet store buying more fish.
So, smarty pants me decided to buy extra fish, just in case of a sudden death. The fish guy at Petco told me Beta fish were very sturdy and would live for years and I wouldn't even have to change their water or feed them. Perfect, I buy two.
Small problem: they're blue instead of gold. Not sure how to get around this one. I also bought two more goldfish. (And I still have the two fish at home, although they aren't looking so fresh.)
I clearly haven't thought any of this through and now I've got SIX fish to deal with. Six fish! See why I'm the worst mom and why lying is bad? And if that isn't bad enough George asked Clay tonight at bedtime if when Nardy and Facewipe die can we bury them in a coffin?
I better start searching for fish coffins on sale because we're going to need a lot of them around here.
A few years ago my parents took George and Goldie on an outing and they came back with two fish, which George named Nardy and Facewipe.
I have always hated these fish.
They keep dying and I keep replacing them as soon as George notices they are missing. Sometimes it takes months and sometimes it takes days.
Because George loves these fish I can't stand the thought of telling him they died so I just replace them as appropriate.
This morning when I woke up Nardy (or maybe Facewipe) was lying in the fetal position gasping for air, or water, or whatever fish gasp for. Clearly he was about to die... Again!
On our walk to school today I gently asked George if we could maybe set the fish free and let them live to their full potential in a pond somewhere. George looked as though he was about to cry, so hours later I'm back at the pet store buying more fish.
So, smarty pants me decided to buy extra fish, just in case of a sudden death. The fish guy at Petco told me Beta fish were very sturdy and would live for years and I wouldn't even have to change their water or feed them. Perfect, I buy two.
Small problem: they're blue instead of gold. Not sure how to get around this one. I also bought two more goldfish. (And I still have the two fish at home, although they aren't looking so fresh.)
I clearly haven't thought any of this through and now I've got SIX fish to deal with. Six fish! See why I'm the worst mom and why lying is bad? And if that isn't bad enough George asked Clay tonight at bedtime if when Nardy and Facewipe die can we bury them in a coffin?
I better start searching for fish coffins on sale because we're going to need a lot of them around here.
Monday, January 3, 2011
How Long is Too Long?
Three weeks ago my purse went "missing." We figured it was most likely stolen from the trunk of our car, which I learned is often left unlocked.
I quickly cancelled my credit cards, contacted the police and moved on.
Fast forward to last night when I got a message on my cell phone telling me my purse is at "How to Cook a Wolf," which is a delicious restaurant I ate at three weeks ago with some girlfriends.
THREE. WEEKS. AGO.
The husband, whom I like to call Clay, picked up the purse last night after we put the kids to bed. Once the purse was home and safe I went through it and found the expected contents, which were not limited to a baby sling, a pair of ballet shoes, various playmobil people, beads, diapers and rubber stampers.
But there was also MY driver's license, with MY address on it and MY business cards (which don't specify a "business") along with several other pieces of information with MY name and phone number on them. Three Weeks?!
Out of curiosity, and now frustration I call the restaurant and leave a message for the manager simply saying thanks for returning it but wtf took so long. (Clay and I speculate they were closed for the last few weeks or they have a policy of not riffling through people's stuff. Perhaps reasonable.)
The manager of all of Ethan Stowell's restaurants called me today and gave me the following explanation, "We tried to find you on Facebook but you don't seem to have an account."
Are you kidding me? Are you 12 years old? That's why it took three weeks? Because I don't have an account on Facebook?
Finally a reason to get a Facebook account! That's exactly the motivation I needed.
Ethan Stowell, I have nothing more to say to you. And your silly friend Mark Zuckerberg either.
I quickly cancelled my credit cards, contacted the police and moved on.
Fast forward to last night when I got a message on my cell phone telling me my purse is at "How to Cook a Wolf," which is a delicious restaurant I ate at three weeks ago with some girlfriends.
THREE. WEEKS. AGO.
The husband, whom I like to call Clay, picked up the purse last night after we put the kids to bed. Once the purse was home and safe I went through it and found the expected contents, which were not limited to a baby sling, a pair of ballet shoes, various playmobil people, beads, diapers and rubber stampers.
But there was also MY driver's license, with MY address on it and MY business cards (which don't specify a "business") along with several other pieces of information with MY name and phone number on them. Three Weeks?!
Out of curiosity, and now frustration I call the restaurant and leave a message for the manager simply saying thanks for returning it but wtf took so long. (Clay and I speculate they were closed for the last few weeks or they have a policy of not riffling through people's stuff. Perhaps reasonable.)
The manager of all of Ethan Stowell's restaurants called me today and gave me the following explanation, "We tried to find you on Facebook but you don't seem to have an account."
Are you kidding me? Are you 12 years old? That's why it took three weeks? Because I don't have an account on Facebook?
Finally a reason to get a Facebook account! That's exactly the motivation I needed.
Ethan Stowell, I have nothing more to say to you. And your silly friend Mark Zuckerberg either.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Slumber Party for 14
We had 13 people sleeping in our house for the last two nights. (14 if you include Hector P. Valenti, the neighbor's hamster.)
Nothing makes me happier than having guests.
Except this cake, which is chocolate with butter cream and ganache. (I made it twice this week.)
We are considering registering our house with the city and officially turning it into a Bed and Breakfast. But it would be free of charge and would only accept guests who are charming, witty, gracious and very hungry.
Most of our guests have now left and we're down to a mere 8 people tonight (9 counting Hector) and we made everyone eat at least one black eyed pea to ensure good luck throughout the year.
Happy new year!
Nothing makes me happier than having guests.
Except this cake, which is chocolate with butter cream and ganache. (I made it twice this week.)
We are considering registering our house with the city and officially turning it into a Bed and Breakfast. But it would be free of charge and would only accept guests who are charming, witty, gracious and very hungry.
Most of our guests have now left and we're down to a mere 8 people tonight (9 counting Hector) and we made everyone eat at least one black eyed pea to ensure good luck throughout the year.
Happy new year!
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Jury Duty Dooty
I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I was actually excited about my jury duty dooty. I saw it as a break from children. My children, that is.
I woke up bright and early on Monday morning and left the house with my book under my arm and a smile on my face. I even wore a little lipstick for extra credibility.
Seven hours later that smile and lipstick had faded and I was stuck in a windowless room with a microwave and group of people who kept making popcorn. There was nothing close to walk to during our frequent 15 minute breaks and I was bored.
At times I was too bored to even read. (Even though I really like my book.)
Finally they called my name and I was requested to report to a court room. Once in the courtroom they actually made us raise our right hands and promise to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
So help me God, I was freakin' out. The judge asked us to sit down and let him know if there were reasons why we couldn't serve. I had prepared my list of excuses in my head. But when it came time, I couldn't say a word 'cause I swore I'd tell the truth. (If you just mouth the words does it still count?)
We even saw the defendant (who looked quite quilty, by the way). He had done something naughty with a gun.
And the worst part? I had to report back the following morning.
After 5 more hours in the jury assembly room the next day, it was finally announced they decided to settle "our case" without a jury. Whoo-hoo! Victory lap around the room. I came home to my yelling kids and never felt so alive! This is were I belong.
Favorite quote from my jury duty evesdropping:
Older Man "Are you still seeing that special girl? The one with the hepatitis?"
Younger Man "Trying not to."
I woke up bright and early on Monday morning and left the house with my book under my arm and a smile on my face. I even wore a little lipstick for extra credibility.
Seven hours later that smile and lipstick had faded and I was stuck in a windowless room with a microwave and group of people who kept making popcorn. There was nothing close to walk to during our frequent 15 minute breaks and I was bored.
At times I was too bored to even read. (Even though I really like my book.)
Finally they called my name and I was requested to report to a court room. Once in the courtroom they actually made us raise our right hands and promise to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
So help me God, I was freakin' out. The judge asked us to sit down and let him know if there were reasons why we couldn't serve. I had prepared my list of excuses in my head. But when it came time, I couldn't say a word 'cause I swore I'd tell the truth. (If you just mouth the words does it still count?)
We even saw the defendant (who looked quite quilty, by the way). He had done something naughty with a gun.
And the worst part? I had to report back the following morning.
After 5 more hours in the jury assembly room the next day, it was finally announced they decided to settle "our case" without a jury. Whoo-hoo! Victory lap around the room. I came home to my yelling kids and never felt so alive! This is were I belong.
Favorite quote from my jury duty evesdropping:
Older Man "Are you still seeing that special girl? The one with the hepatitis?"
Younger Man "Trying not to."
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
It's Too Painful To Talk About
However, you need to know about this cake.
I had to make this cake tonight. It's called the Sweet and Salty Cake
and I've been obsessing about it for days.
It was one of the most difficult cakes I've ever made. Or maybe my kids were the most difficult they've ever been. Or maybe it was just Milo.
While I was distracted with baking he "cleaned" our filthy basement toilet (the "prison potty," we call it) using my kitchen tongs and his entire body. When I found him he was soaked to the bone with dirty toilet water. (Thanks for saving the environment, Clay, by not flushing.)
I gave him a bath in the kitchen sink so I could:
A. Keep my eye on him
B. Clean him up
C. Occupy him while I finished baking
Not 10 minutes out of the bath he fell down the basement stairs, most likely trying to get back to the toilet to finish his cleaning job.
And, yes, those are blood stains on my shirt. The little guy cut his lip pretty badly.
Yup...
And the cake? It's the worst looking cake I've ever made. (See above photo.) But boy was it yummy. There isn't a slice left.
I had to make this cake tonight. It's called the Sweet and Salty Cake
and I've been obsessing about it for days.
It was one of the most difficult cakes I've ever made. Or maybe my kids were the most difficult they've ever been. Or maybe it was just Milo.
While I was distracted with baking he "cleaned" our filthy basement toilet (the "prison potty," we call it) using my kitchen tongs and his entire body. When I found him he was soaked to the bone with dirty toilet water. (Thanks for saving the environment, Clay, by not flushing.)
I gave him a bath in the kitchen sink so I could:
A. Keep my eye on him
B. Clean him up
C. Occupy him while I finished baking
Not 10 minutes out of the bath he fell down the basement stairs, most likely trying to get back to the toilet to finish his cleaning job.
And, yes, those are blood stains on my shirt. The little guy cut his lip pretty badly.
Yup...
And the cake? It's the worst looking cake I've ever made. (See above photo.) But boy was it yummy. There isn't a slice left.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
How I Plan to Get Out of Jury Duty
I have jury duty starting next week. Don't they know I'm a very, very busy woman?
I have cookies to bake and raffle tickets to buy! I also need to make a layer cake every other day. I understand it's my civic duty but here is how I'm planning to get myself excused:
1. Show up in a costume, most likely involving Goldie's tutu.
2. Declare that I'm a physic and I can save all of us a whole lot of time.
3. Nod toward the juror next to me and mouth "guilty" while secretly pointing at him/her.
4. Bring Milo with me.
5. Eat Sunchips out of their new compostable bag in the courtroom.
6. Raise my hand and ask if anyone has actually been convicted for shooting JR.
Wish me luck!
I have cookies to bake and raffle tickets to buy! I also need to make a layer cake every other day. I understand it's my civic duty but here is how I'm planning to get myself excused:
1. Show up in a costume, most likely involving Goldie's tutu.
2. Declare that I'm a physic and I can save all of us a whole lot of time.
3. Nod toward the juror next to me and mouth "guilty" while secretly pointing at him/her.
4. Bring Milo with me.
5. Eat Sunchips out of their new compostable bag in the courtroom.
6. Raise my hand and ask if anyone has actually been convicted for shooting JR.
Wish me luck!
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