recap 9/17

1. Sure.  Everyone naps at the same time when I’m away.

2. My laptop is possessed.

3. Matte nail polish is not so matte after two coats of top coat.

4. As a blonde, ultra-pale person, I heart the new fall colors of emerald, sapphire, and amethyst.

5. My boys have learned to sneak food from the pantry.

6. The Husband and I are learning to compromise.  Shocker.

7. I’m surprised how bright life is when you pretend to be optimistic.  Now I know what I’m missing.

8. Of course, I still need sarcasm to get through the day.

9. Tornado E has learned he has great influence over Tornado S.

10. Tornado S thinks he has great influence over Tornado A.


How does anyone blog with a baby and toddler home?

Tornado A hasn’t napped the same time Tornado S has in days.

And if he has, it’s just a half hour.  I think it something to do with teething.

Or the fact Tornado S decided to forgo his nap on Monday.  Yeah, that sucked.



Sure, I should blog at night.  But that’s when I’m cleaning, organizing, and try to spend some time with The Husband.  Because, you know, I should try to be a good wife every once in a while.  Apparently, husbands think their wives should spend time with them when not wanting sex or playing with the kids.  Go figure.

Right now, Tornado S is singing from his bed.  Tornado A is playing in his little gym, which he likes for a while and then realizes Nothing is getting into his mouth.  Then he gets cranky.  Which he’s starting to do.

I guess I should be thankful I have one child in school, but he comes home exhausted and grumpy.

The sad thing is it’s children’s music playing in my head that gets me through the day.

I really need to play my iPod more.

recap 9/10

1. I had to take down yesterday’s post because the picture wasn’t coming up in two different browsers.  Stupid Computer Pixies!

2. I’d like to build it up as comic gold, but I plan on still posting it once I figure out the right computer-magic spell.  Then I have to let the public decide on how funny I truly am.

3. Look who’s nearly caught up with all her bloggy friend!  Hey!

4. The Husband makes a pretty damn good dad at times.

5. New, clean, crisp sheets are one of the few things I shave my legs for.


7. My kids are so weird.

8. Tornado E confessed to The Husband that the reason he peed his pants at school earlier this week is because he was scared to use to bathroom with all the loud toilets.

9. The Husband is a braver cook than I am, since he tries to invent dishes without any recipes.

10. When happiness costs only a dollar, you buy the cheap, probably-lead-based pirate hat, hook, and eye patch to watch a three-year-old beam with joy as a fierce pirate.

Another Happy Homemaker Moment

I hate when I have them.

I’m really enjoying making Tornado E lunches for school.  I bake a dessert every weekend.  I bought little boxes and containers, even finding a few with cute animal faces.  I cut out sandwiches with cookie cutters.  I’m still searching for unique and fun menus.  I make him a little note with stickers.  Everything fits in his awesome metal pirate lunch box.

It’s all very cute and lovely.

Then last night as I finished humming and building a lunch, I thought, “I wish The Husband went to work, and I could make his lunches too.”

AND I could make his lunches too.

Does this mean I have to give up my feminist card?  And forget the secret handshake?  And break all my Ani DiFranco cds?  And burn my “God’s a girl and she’s cute” shirt?

Maybe I just need a stiff drink.

Help! Zombies are eating my boys’ brains!

I’m absolutely dead serious here.  Dead.  Serious.

The Husband is pretty sure that I’m exaggerating, but then he hasn’t been here in over a week, and he was not here this weekend when it happened.  Oh, no.  He thinks I’m being melodramatic (as usual), and we’ll discuss the pros and cons of the situation when he arrives home later today.  Ok, I admit I’m making him look more patronizing than he is.  But then he’s acting like I’m exaggerating, and obviously I don’t.  (See quote to the right of the screen.)

This weekend I learned a) Tornado E can use the mouse to find and open up the zombie program that has no visual clues that it is “Plants vs Zombies,” b) my boys are willing to fight to the DEATH to gain control of the mouse and the game, and c) when I pull the plug from “Plants vs Zombies” my boys act like they are possessed, withering around, speaking in tongues, heads spinning.  The power of Christ compels you!

So zombies have eaten my boys’ brains.  Which is sad because they were such bright boys.

Now my mom, when she hears this, will smirk and say “I told you so.” Not helpful, Mom.  Not helpful at all.  How was I to know that this obsession would be more powerful than all others?  Remember when Tornado E was a dinosaur and answered everything in roars and then spoke in asides to translate to me?  Remember the months of Kung Fu Panda with Kung Fu kicks, hours of “Kung Fu Fighting.” and the need to go to McDonald’s to collect every figure?  (Though we missed two)  How about the recent obsession of The Princess and The Frog and Dr. Facilier?  Or the Mario Brothers and Bowser obsession that is in direct result of my mom’s Wii playing skills?

The only way to cure an obsession is time and distractions.  Easy, right?  Except that when I got out of the shower and was dressed, I realized it was quiet in the house.  Too Quiet.  Instead of them painting the cabinets with nail polish, gushing blood, sneaking into the cookies, eating chocolate milk powder, spraying the house with perfume, I found them in the office with the door closed, playing zombies.  (Actually they were looking at the zombie almanac discussing the various abilities of different zombies.)  Are you kidding me?  “Hi, Mom!  We tricked you!”


I’d lock them outside in the back yard if it wasn’t so damn hot, if we had grass, and if our yard was larger than a normal size living room.  Ok, if it wasn’t so damn hot, I’d lock them outside.

So I’m doing basic manuevers.  I’ve got a list of things they can do when I’m busy with a baby and don’t include screen time.  I just hauled home a half-dozen books from the library.  I will force them to help me cook and bake in the kitchen.  If all else fails, I’ll slather them with sunscreen and throw them outside with a couple of buckets of water and ice.

Damnit.  I will get my sons back.  No zombie can defeat me!

Failing that.  I always have a third child.

Recap 8/27

1. Tornado E still loves school, but I’m betting it’s because of the social element.

2. I represent destroyer of cartoons to Tornado S.  Daddy, obviously, is the savior.

3. To Makers of chocolate chips: STOP REDUCING THE AMOUNT YOU PUT IN BAGS!  We want MORE chocolate chips in our cookies not less!  Yes, I’m on to you.

4. Want to make Rice Krispie Treats tastier but less healthy?  Add Milk Duds.

5. I’ve been spoiled by having The Husband here all summer.  Now he’s going away for two weeks.  Ugh!

6. The Husband has introduced the boys to Boomerang.  We have a rebellion against educational cartoons.

7. I think Tornado A just may be settling into a sleep rhythm.  But I’m not holding my breath.

8. I think I’m addicted to SuperNanny.  I don’t know why.

9. Of course all the mom gatherings and parties would be when The Husband is gone.

10. Tornado E NEEDS an umbrella because apparently he’ll melt if rain touches his skin.  I should have known I birthed a witch.

Heads is . . . .

I think I’ve mentioned my sons’ obsession with “Zombies vs Plants” and their desperate need to watch their dad play the game.  So after dinner, the boys started begging their dad to play.

Tornado E: Let’s play zombies!

Tornado S: Come on!  It’ll be fun!

The Husband: Daddy has to work.

Tornado S: Peeeeeaaaaaasssssssssse!

Tornado E: Let’s play “Head’s and Memorials!”  Heads will be we will play Zombies.  Memorials will be you go to work.

The Husband: Ok.

Tornado E flipped a penny.  It came up tails.

Tornado E: That didn’t work.  Let’s do it again.

Tornado E flipped the coin again, and it landed on tails.L

Tornado E: Let me do it again.

This time Tornado E held the coin a foot above the floor, head side up.  Then he dropped it. I saw the tails.  Tornado E scooped it up.

Me: Tornado E what did it land on?

Tornado E: The floor!

Me: (laughing) No.  What side landed up?

Tornado E: Heads!  Let’s play Zombies!

The Husband: Let’s play then.

I laughed harder.

Me: Tornado E.

Tornado E: (sighed) Let’s switch.  Heads will be Daddy goes to work, and memorials will be Zombies.

Tornado E dropped the coin.

Tornado E: MEMORIALS!  Let’s go!

No, what is this?

Not even ten minutes went by from the last conversation before this one occurred.

Tornado E: I LOST MY PENNY!!

The Husband and I: You’ll be fine.

Tornado E: But I lost my penny!

The Husband: Don’t whine.

Me: We’ll find it when we stop.

Tornado E: But I lost it in my seat!  I need it!  Pull over and find it!

Me: We’ll find it when we stop.

Tornado E: But I need it now!

The Husband:  Here!  Here’s a new penny.

Tornado E: Thank you, Daddy!

Blessed silence.  The Husband and I returned to our conversation.

Tornado E: Daddy, what’s this?

The Husband: A penny.

Tornado E: No, Daddy!  What’s on the back of the penny?

The Husband: The Lincoln Memorial.  We told you that already.

Tornado E: But, Daddy, what’s this?

The Husband: The memorial.

Tornado E: No, what’s this?

The Husband: The memorial.

Tornado E: No!  What is this?

The Husband: The memorial!

Me: The Husband, maybe you should just check it and see.

I remembered the year they placed four different backs on the penny.  They also placed shields on the back of this year’s penny.

The Husband: Tornado E, let me see the penny. . . .  A shield?!  Why does it have a shield on the back?

Me: To get more people to collect them out of the system.

The Husband: Here, Tornado E.  It’s a shield.

Tornado E: Now, let’s lay Heads or Shields.

What is This?

Tornado E: Daddy, what is this?

The Husband: A penny.

Tornado E: No, Daddy!  What is this?

The Husband: A penny, Tornado E.

Tornado E: No!  What is this?

The Husband: The head of Lincoln.  Get in the car, Tornado E.

Tornado E: No, Daddy!  What is this?

The Husband: Tornado E!  Get in the car!

Me: Tornado E.  One side is the head of Lincoln and the other side is the Lincoln Memorial.

Tornado E:  But what is this?!

The Husband: Get in the car, and I’ll look at it.

Tornado E: But Daddy-

The Husband: Get into your seat!

I buckled Tornado E in, and The Husband and I got into the car.  I started the car and began to back out of the parking space.

Tornado E: Daddy!  Now can you tell me what it is?

The Husband examined the penny.

The Husband: This side is the profile of Abraham Lincoln.  And this side is the Lincoln Memorial.  It’s in Washington, D.C.

Me: And I’ve been there, and one day, we’ll take you there.

Tornado E looked at the penny.

Tornado E:  I have an idea!  Let’s play a game.  Heads or memorials!

The Husband and I exchanged a look.

The Husband: The kid’s too damn smart.

Me: I know.

Things get sticky

Weeks went by.  SP moved into the condo; I moved into my apartment.  I took the desk from the condo, which I turned upside down and threw down two flights of stairs because it was easy and C wasn’t home.  I accidently started dating the rare 20 year old virgin, which led me to take refuge at the condo with SP, Best Friend, and Tough Chick as the virgin called fifty times a day even after I explained that I didn’t get home until 10pm because of work and school.  He didn’t listen; my roommate wanted to kill him; and he tried to choke me with his tongue when we kissed.  That was a week old romance.

Not long after the mutual break up, C threw another party at his condo and invited the whole group.  We went because the underage and the broke of our circle could score booze.  I went because I was the DD, since I still flirted with being Straight Edge.

As I stood at the breakfast bar, watching my friends pour drinks, as I sipped my soda, C came up and started talking to me.  His friends sat on the couches not to far from us and started chanting “Rudy.”

Me: What’s up with that?

C: They think I look like Sean Astin from Rudy.

Me: Oh.  I never saw that movie.  (But for the record C totally looks like Sean Astin.)  So why do they keep chanting?

C: Because they’re jerks.

Me: Oh.  Figures.

C had to leave me and go mingle with the crowd.  The man could work a room.  His Best Girl Friend slide up next to me and grab the bar for support as she swayed.

BGF: Have you met my friend C?

Me: Yeah.

BGF: No.  Have you met my friend C?

Me: Yeah?

Luckily Tough Chick swooped in and saved me, but when ever I was alone, the scene with the BGF repeated itself.  After a couple hours, it was decided that most of the group was ready to go.  Except Loose Canon and Tough Chick.  They planned to stay the night, and so I took Loose Canon’s car and drove everyone home.

The next day near noon, the phone rang.

Me: Hello?

Tough Chick: Fae? Are you sitting down?

Me: No.

Tough Chick: I think you should.  We have a problem.

Me: What?

TC: (Sigh) Loose Canon f-ed C last night.

Me: WHAT?!

TC: Yeah.  She waited until he was drunk and tired enough to go to bed.  Then she went into his room five minutes after he did and attacked him.

Me: So she raped him?

TC: Um, he’s a guy.

Me: If roles were reversed and a guy waited until a girl was drunk and tired and then attacked her when she went to bed, we would call that rape.

TC: I guess you’re right.

Me: So how did C take it?

TC: He’s a guy.

Me: Right.

TC: But he feels guilty because he’s 30 and she’s 21.  He feels like he took advantage of the situation and plans to take her out for dinner.

Me: Took advantage of the situation?  She jumped into his bed.  Wait, did you even see her talking to him at all?

TC: No.  She was nursing a beer in the corner the whole time, not talking to anyone.  C mainly talked to you when you were there. 

Me: Ok, she’s creepy.  And she’s totally going to f up us all up with hanging at the condo.

TC: She just laid him.  Tomorrow things will be normal.  We’ll all move on.

Me: Loose has never “just” laid anyone.  She falls in love with each and every guy she’s banged.  She confuses sex with love even with the one night stands. 

TC: Unlike you.

Me:  Me?  Yes, I can separate love from sex.  Personally, I prefer it that way.  Men are meant t be used.  When did Loose start eyeing C anyways?  I thought she thought he was scuzzy.

TC: That was before the night of your big date with the virgin-

Me: Shut up.

TC: And we all went bowling.  C was dressed nicely from work and we learned he owned a million dollar business.

Me: Money sings to OC chicks. 

TC: So what are you going to do as the official “mom” of the group?

Me: Crap.  I guess I’ll talk to her tomorrow before class and make sure she understands what an f-buddy is.  I just wouldn’t hold my breath.  At least I’m out of here on Wednesday until Sunday.  You still picking me up from the airport?

And yes, the next day, I did talk to Loose Canon, but it did no girl.  All week she spoke of C with that puppy-love voice.  Always mentioning how she stayed that night with him.  I was glad to get out of the drama.  Except it was waiting the moment I got back.

I slid into the Tough Chick’s car on Sunday.

Me: Thanks for waiting.  Stupid terrorists f-ing up my airports and planes.  I’ve been waiting for two hours to catch the shuttle to get here.

TC: No problem.  I was on a phone call with an old friend and didn’t notice the time.  I might have left your ass.

Me: Which would have sucked since I don’t have a cell phone.

TC: Which you need.

Me: But don’t have the money for.  Besides what’s the point?  So how are you?

TC: Good.  But we have more issues.

Me: What now? 

TC: Loose Canon left her toiletries and an outfit at the condo in C’s room.

Me: WHAT?!  Who leaves their crap at their f-buddies house?  I dated the ex for two years and never left a single hair tye at his dorm.

TC: No sh-.  So C saw that and lost it and told SP to tell Loose to get her sh- out of his room.  And I’m pretty sure that short-lived relationship is over.

Me: Great.  And how does C feel about SP and her friends now?

TC: Well, he likes me.  Straight guys love lesbians.  And he keeps asking when you’re coming back.