No No A Thousand Times No

Posted on 11/30/2006 09:12:00 AM
Alice: "Dormouse, get out of my purse, please."

Dormouse: *continues unzipping*

A: "No baby, stop. I don't want you in my purse."

D: *continues unzipping*

A: *raises voice a bit* "No Dormouse, stop. I told you I did not want you to open my purse."

D: "Momma, I'm just checking somethin."

A: "But I don't WANT you to 'check somethin' in my purse - now get out of it."

D: *begins unzipping again*

A: "Stop now, or you will be in trouble."

D: "But Momma, I need to look in there."

A: "The answer is 'No'."

D: "Well....." (*weak smile*) "The other answer...... issssss 'Yes!'."

D: "Momma, why are you laughing?"

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Manipulation, It's Not Just for Adults Anymore

Posted on 11/29/2006 09:40:00 AM
Can someone please explain to me, what is it about Chick-fil-A? Is there heroin in the batter or something? Because my child, who does not like meat of any kind, and needs to be force fed chicken particularly, is obsessed with that place like Jay Leno is obsessed with cars. I'd say it was because of the play area, but there are a lot of restaurants that have a play area and none so preferred as this one in my child's mind.

A new one was built in our area about a year ago and we stopped in one day just after The Dormouse turned two. There's been a longstanding love affair between the two since. Whenever someone asks her what she wants to eat, it's Chick-fil-A. If we drive by one in a new place, she begins screaming, "Chick-fil-A, Chick-fil-A, I saw Chick-fil-A!!!!" and kicking her legs in excitement. Whatever Truett Cathy did when coming up with that idea, he did it right.

Yesterday, we had to make a run up to the bank around 10:30 am. Suddenly, I realize that were stopped at a red light at the infamous place known in our family as The Chick-fil-A Intersection. I'm silently praying (as we always do when we go through this light) that she doesn't notice that it's within a stone's throw of the car when I hear a plaintive and extremely transparent voice from the backseat say:

"Hmmmm. I'm hungry. We should think about lunch, don't you think? Momma, where we gonna go for lun.... (*interrupts self*) HEEEEEY! We're right by Chick-fil-A... and I'll bet they're open!"

Mom says nothing... just laughs silently to self.

"Here's the deal mom. We...... (*begins counting off on fingers*) go get some ice cream, go to the bank, then go to Chick-fil-A... because they're open."

Me, privately impressed by how she managed to also throw the ice cream in there too: "I don't think so hon... we should go home for lunch and use up some of the food that Daddy bought at the grocery store last night."

Pensive thought, then: "OK... How 'bout a driffent deal?"

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Necescito Un Spanish Dictionary

Posted on 11/28/2006 01:06:00 PM
In it's constantly ongoing quest to have more programming on than hours in the day, the Disney Channel has unveiled a new show in it's Playhouse Disney morning hours called "Handy Manny." The show seems (to us at least) to be part Blue's Clues, part Dora the Explorer and part Can't We All Just Get Along? Manny is a repair dude, who gets personal calls from the Mayor to tear down merry-go-rounds and rescue cats from trees.

Must be a small town.


I love that he has a phillips screwdriver named "Felipe" and there's a standard screwdriver named "Turner." (Felipe and Turner are always spatting about who gets to do more work and is more important to the team, while Manny is constantly needing to massage their fragile egos so that they will actually do something except argue or feel sorry for themselves.) The other tools have personalities too, but I haven't quite watched long enough to know more than their names:

"Stretch" is the tape measure;
"Squeeze" is a pair of pliers;
"Pat" the hammer;
"Dusty" the saw; and
"Rusty" the pipe wrench.

I love subtlety of the names of the tools... that and the fact that Manny never has to pay for his supplies. Personally, I think he's got something on the side going with Kelly, the way-too-eager-to-please girl who owns the hardware store, and she takes it out in trade later when all the tools are required to participate in their sick rendezvous.

The most interesting part of the show (other than the "Teach your kids some Spanish words so you can tell others they are bi-lingual but don't expect them to ever be able to order a meal in Nogales" philosophy) was the pre-show marketing. Weeks before the show was on the air, there were commercials disguised as music videos, Wilmer Valderrama (more likeable here than he ever was in That 70's Show because he finally dropped that annoying lisp) shorts where he watches the show with his nephew/cousin/brother/paidchildactor, toys featuring Manny and his tools in the drugstore, and Manny's face all over mylar balloons in the grocery store. Say what you will about the Evil Empire Disney, but they could teach us all a thing or two about marketing.

Long before the show ever premiered, we'd be walking down the produce aisle and suddenly hysterical shriekings would emanate from my child. "Handy Manny!!!! I SAW HANDY MANNY! HAAAAANDYYYYYYY MAAAAAAANNNNNNNNYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOOO HOOOO!" (*thumbs up sign*) The same thing could be heard at home in the background while I was on the phone whenever she'd see a commercial.

Me: "Honey, do you even know who Manny is?"

Dormouse: *pause* "He's HAAAANDY!!!" *victory dance - two thumbs up sign*

The other day we were watching while the Mayor was calling Manny with another of those City Hall-related disasters that can only be solved by an unlicensed contractor with seven tools. The KingofHearts asked aloud if Manny was the Mayor's son or relative.

NG: "I don't think so... why would you think that?"

KoH: "Well because, he's always using terms of endearment with her but not with any of the other citizens of Sheetrock Hills."

NG: "Uh... ...when?"

KoH: "You know... right there, he just called the Mayor 'hermosa'. That means 'beautiful' in Spanish, doesn't it?"

NG: *sighs* "He's calling her 'Mayor Rosa'... because that's, you know... her name."

The Dormouse, however, still believes
"las herramientas" (Manny's tools) are pronounced "bear-a-mint-os." At least someone learned something today.


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Squirrel Bait

Posted on 11/27/2006 03:50:00 PM
How funny is this? I saw these car magnets online, and thought they were hilarious... then immediately decided that NotAnSUV was too boring and needed a facelift. They came while I was out of town and I stuck them on the minute I got home, looked at the box and realized what was inside.

KingofHearts decidedly does not enjoy driving this now. He claims that everyone looks at him funny as he passes them on the road. I however, have not noticed anyone looking at me funny. Perhaps they are thinking that they'd expect a middle-aged white woman driving a station wagon (It's not an SUV!) to have polkadots on her car... it's the only thing that would brighten her otherwise dull and humdrum life. And they'd be right.

I have, however, fielded lots of comments from people in parking lots since I started driving around with them. Here are a few and my responses:

"Did your car come like that?" ("Yes, it's the Eddie Bean Got Small Pox Edition")
"Did you paint those on there by hand?" ("Yes. The ones on the undercarraige were the hardest.")
"Who's spotty car is that?" *said while I'm unlocking and getting in on the driver's side* ("Uh... I don't know." *proceed to drive away*)
"Is that your company logo?" (Yes, I'm the inventer of the the Polka Dot, would you like to order one?)
"Did your car mate with a dalmation?" ("That's so funny I don't even have a pithy response.")

But the funniest thing so far, wasn't a comment at all. It was the two squirrels trying desperately to pry the dots off my car in the rain. The car was recently waxed and they'd stand up on their hind feet while using their front feet to attempt the theivery, then slip off the slick hood and slide backwards, only to scramble up again and restart the whole process. They never actually got one off but I feel like if they had, they'd have deserved it.

It's only been a week and I feel like I could take them off the car now, having got more than my $15 worth of entertainment out of them.

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You Were Expecting Maybe Lincoln Logs?

Posted on 11/26/2006 09:36:00 AM
One Who Shall Remain Nameless over the phone: "You'll never guess where I am... Legoland! You can't believe it here - everything is made from Legos!!!"

Me: "I hear that's why they call it Legoland."


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Order is Not Important, It Is?

Posted on 11/25/2006 08:58:00 AM
You know how sometimes all the words are there but you just can't get them out all in the right order? This was heard yesterday from The Dormouse as she ran from the car to the front door:

"Daddy, I sure do pretty run fast, don't I?"

After the last week and having surprise guests for Thanksgiving dinner, I know how she feels.

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What Have You

Posted on 11/24/2006 01:04:00 PM
"What Have You Done?" (Mine are in bold.)

01. Bought everyone in the bar a drink
02. Swam with wild dolphins
03. Climbed a mountain
04. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
05. Been inside the Great Pyramid
06. Held a tarantula
07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. Said 'I love you and meant it
09. Hugged a tree
10. Bungee jumped
11. Visited Paris
12. Watched a lightning storm at sea
13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise

14. Seen the Northern Lights
15. Gone to a huge sports game (and survived the crush afterwards)
16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
17. Grown and eaten your own vegetables
18. Touched an iceberg
19. Slept under the stars
20. Changed a baby's diaper
21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. Watched a meteor shower

23. Gotten drunk on champagne
24. Given more than you can afford to charity
25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
27. Had a food fight
28. Bet on a winning horse

29. Asked out a stranger
30. Had a snowball fight
31. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can
32. Held a lamb
33. Seen a total eclipse

34. Ridden a roller coaster
35. Hit a home run
36. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking
37. Adopted an accent for an entire day
38. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
39. Had two hard drives for your computer
40. Visited all 50 states
41. Taken care of someone who was drunk.
42. Had amazing friends

43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. Watched wild whales
45. Stolen a sign
46. Backpacked in Europe.
47. Taken a road-trip
48. Gone rock climbing
49. Midnight walk on the beach
50. Gone sky diving
51. Visited Ireland
52. Been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love
53. In a restaurant, sat at a strangers table and had a meal with them
54. Visited Japan
55. Milked a cow
56. Alphabetized your CDs

57. Pretended to be a superhero
58. Sung karaoke
59. Lounged around in bed all day

60. Played touch football
61. Gone scuba diving
62. Kissed in the rain
63. Played in the mud
64. Played in the rain
65. Gone to a drive-in theater
66. Visited the Great Wall of China
67. Started a business
68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken

69. Toured ancient sites
70. Taken a martial arts class

71. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
72. Gotten married
73. Been in a movie
74. Crashed a party
75. Gotten divorced
76. Gone without food for 5 days
77. Made cookies from scratch
78. Won first prize in a costume contest

79. Ridden a gondola in Venice
80. Gotten a tattoo
81. Rafted the Snake River
82. Been on television news programs as an expert
83. Got flowers for no reason
84. Performed on stage
85. Been to Las Vegas
86. Recorded music
87. Eaten shark
88. Kissed on the first date
89. Gone to Thailand
90. Bought a house
91. Been in a combat zone

92. Buried one/both of your parents
93. Been on a cruise ship
94. Spoken more than one language fluently
95. Performed in Rocky Horror
96. Raised(ing) children
97. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over
101. Driven the Golden Gate Bridge
102. Sang loudly in the car, and didn't stop when you knew someone was looking

103. Had plastic surgery
104. Survived an accident that you shouldnt have survived
105. Wrote articles for a large publication
106. Lost over 100 pounds
107. Held someone while they were having a flashback
108. Piloted an airplane
109. Touched a stingray
110. Broken someones heart

111. Helped an animal give birth
112. Won money on a TV game show
113. Broken a bone
114. Gone on an African photo safari
115. Had a facial part pierced other than your ears
116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
118. Ridden a horse
119. Had major surgery
120. Had a snake as a pet

121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours
123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states
124. Visited all 7 continents
125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
126. Eaten alligator meat
127. Eaten sushi
128. Had your picture in the newspaper
129. Changed someone's mind about something you care deeply about

130. Gone back to school
131. Parasailed
132. Touched a cockroach
133. Eaten fried green tomatoes
134. Read The Iliad - and the Odyssey
135. Selected one important author who you missed in school, and read

136. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
137. Skipped all your school reunions
138. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
139. Been elected to public office
140. Written your own computer language
141. Thought to yourself that you're living your dream
142. Had to put someone you love into hospice care

143. Built your own PC from parts
144. Sold your own artwork to someone who didn't know you
145. Had a booth at a street fair
146. Dyed your hair
147. Been a DJ
148. Shaved your head
149. Caused a car accident
150. Saved someones life

Looking over this list, I am amazed at the uncommon things I've done... and the everyday things I haven't.

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Egg-zactly

Posted on 11/23/2006 03:47:00 PM
Part two of the How Do You Like Your Eggs Saga

KingofHearts: "What do you want for breakfast?"

Dormouse: "Um.... eggs!"

KoH: "How do you like your eggs?"

D: "I like eggs THE BEST!"



As The Dormouse says, Happy Thanks Day everyone!

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This is the Life

Posted on 11/22/2006 02:20:00 PM
11:16 am.
There is a stack of catalogs two feet tall from the past week of not reading my mail daily (KoH is unable to distinguish what I want to keep and what I throw away and errs on the side of caution by never nearing the trash can with anything that comes in the mail.)
The Dormouse is running around the kitchen bare naked with the imprint of the toilet seat on her butt.
I have not yet showered and am still wearing my pjs.
Nice to know that all that professional dress nonsense of the past week didn't affect me permanently.

Normalcy has returned and all is right with the world. Ah, how I've missed it.

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Coming Out of the Closet

Posted on 11/21/2006 09:30:00 AM
Early in the conference, a relative of a friend who occasionally reads my blog but isn't connected to my profession, was a guest for an event we held. He approached me to say hello and in the course of our chat, outed me as a blogger. In front of a friend from college... who then said repeatedly over the next four days, "You have a blog? Where is it? I want to read it! Tell me. Tell. Tell. Tell. Tell. Tell!"

I successfully dodged her question over and over because I knew I'd been complaining about this conference and all week and I can't have people who attended reading THAT. I'm already nervous that I've revealed too much about what I do and someone, somewhere will somehow google the correct sequence of random words to bring them here... and then even though I don't have my name or what I really do anywhere on this website and I never talk about anyone specifically and seldom talk about work and I wouldn't ever write anything purposely offensive or untrue, I've had little self-control this week and that person will put two and two together to figure it out, be offended, and I'll be Dooced.

And so I ask, what's the point of having a blog if you can't bitch about your life? But then what's the point of having a blog if no one you know ever reads it?

These kinds of existential questions make my head hurt.

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Who Wants to Be My Sugar Daddy?

Posted on 11/20/2006 10:27:00 AM
One day a few years ago an area lottery pot had reached record numbers and everyone was frantically buying tickets to win kajillions. One woman in my office was heading out to purchase tickets for herself and all of her friends at lunchtime and the subject of "What would you do if you won the lottery" came up. We discussed this with the fervor of a serious threat that may one day happen to each of us and decided that we would not be the kind of people who would up and quit our jobs immediately then but a boat to sail around the world, only to sink it because we knew nothing about boats. We would be Down to Earth Lottery Winners. We believe in the mission of the association and so we would still work. We'd simply hire others to do our jobs for us.

This is the last day of my conference. Or rather, the conference ended yesterday and today is clean up, pack up and go home day. The bags under my eyes now have bags and all day yesterday people kept cornering me, looking deep into my eyes, and saying "You look tired." Thanks... you look skanky, now we're even.


I spent the first four days never leaving the hotel and the last three nights being driven around in the back seat of some local person's car while he/she showed me the sights, sounds and local flavor of several of the closest towns because I made the mistake of telling someone that I seldom get to leave the hotel during the conference so it doesn't really matter to me what city we're in. "See that? That's the place where I used to live - it's been torn down now." "There's where the drugstore I used to shop at was - it's a Starbucks now." "That's where my first job was - it's a vacant lot now." "That over there is the power and electric company..." What is it with Midwesterners and their car tours of the city? I'm pretty sure you won't be finding that stuff in the Convention and Visitors' Bureau information. I suppose it was worth it though for the first good barbecue I've had since I got here.

At any rate, it's over and done with for another year and I'm glad. Most of the conference attendees have gone from the hotel and I am now left alone to begin picking up the pieces of my usually-not-very-fragile-ego after seven days of criticism, snide comments and left-handed compliments. As every conference ends, I always come away from it wondering why I continue to subject myself to the physical demands and mental abuse of having a job where one of the responsibilities is putting on a conference for 1500 people each year. And then I remember... oh yeah, my family has that pesky habit of eating and I'm not qualified to do anything better.

Ten jobs I would rather do than mine if money was not a concern:

Dog walker

Ice cream truck driver
Demonstrating a
Theramin at a conference
Milk delivery person (done by 8:00 am and you don't have to talk to anyone)
Working in a cheese factory
Librarian
Running a printing press in a publishing company
Mall Santa
Writing crossword puzzle clues
Professional house sitter

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Miss Otis Requests

Posted on 11/19/2006 10:46:00 AM

Most Ridiculous Comments Overheard and/or
Inappropriate Requests from Conference Attendees So Far:

In the I Look But Fail to Read Category:

"Where is the Benji Madden room?"
Me: "You mean the Benny Moten room?"
"No, the Benji Madden room."
Me: "Perhaps in another hotel, but in this hotel, it's the Benny Moten room."

(same person) "I need to get to the Tan Tan restaurant."
Me: "You mean the Pam Pam restaurant?"
"No - it's the Tan Tan restaurant."
Me: "Just look for the sign that says Tan Tan." (there isn't one because it's 'Pam Pam')

In the Hoof in Mouth Disease Category:

Attendee to Crusty Convention Services Woman: "I'd like these two books..." (CCSW begins to write out a receipt) "...and make sure you add it right!"
CCSW: "Well, honey, if you don't think I can add $40 and $40, you can take this to another person."

Colleague to other colleague in front of one of our Association's Past Presidents: "What's going on with your hair? It looks awful!!!"

Person 1: "You need to talk to Jim over there (points to three people, one of whom is 6' 7"). He's the one in... he's the... uh.... er..."
Person 2: "You can say 'big guy', that's not a racist statement."

Person 1: "Wow what's that perfume you're wearing?"
Person 2: "Oh, I made it myself, it's patchouli and jasmine."
Person 1: "I don't like it."

Attendee asks when exhibit hall opens while standing in front of 12 foot sign that has exhibit hall hours on it. Stressed-out and over-agitated colleague says, "It's printed on the sign, right there. That sign. Read the sign. It's all on the sign. Sign. Sign. Read the sign."
Other colleague and I just stare at her as attendee walks away. Then she looks at us and says, "You think I might have been a little short with him?"
Us: "Nah."

In the WHAAAA? Category:

Person 1: "Well, he wants to be on the committee, but he doesn't want to come to the committee meetings or answer emails and phone calls about committee business; he says he's too busy for that. Is there a role he can play?"
Me: "You mean like.... Committee Mascot?!?"
Person 2: "I think the answer you're looking for is 'no'."

Colleague: "How do you like living in the Nashville area?"
Person 1: "I don't live in Nashville, I live in Louisville!"
Colleague: "Oh sorry, I thought they were close. I guess you don't get over to the Nashville music scene then?"
Person 1: "Of course I do, it's only 30 miles away!"

Volunteers so anal retentive that they folded and organized my bubble wrap sheets by size, then placed them in ziplock baggies after helping to open boxes.

Person 1: "I want to make sure conference attendees will get a receipt because one time I was at conference and they refused to give me a receipt."
Me: "That's not our policy... when did this happen? Whom did you talk to?"
Person 1: "Well it wasn't at this conference."

In the Heard Over the Walkie Talkie I Have to Wear on My Hip all Around the Hotel Category:

A colleague, just after being told a session would have to be moved to a different room: "WELL WHO'S STUPID IDEA WAS THAT??!!?" This, while I'm talking to a committee chair.

Voice 1: "Can I come over there and borrow a stapler from you for a few minutes? I promise I'll bring it back."
Voice 2: "OK, but I'm gonna want one of your children if you don't."
Voice 1: "Heh heh heh, which one do you want?"
Voice 3: "Take the taaaaall one."

In the 'You're Doing a Great Job But...' Category

Person 1: "You're doing a great job but I hate not having my credentials on my badge - someone thought one of my friends was a STUDENT!!"
Me: "Really? Because if someone thought I was a student, I'd be flattered."
Friend to person 1: "I see no one thought YOU were a student."

Person 1: "You're doing a great job but I hate the name badges. The font is miniscule!"
Me: "Actually the font size is 58 point. Every year I find the person with the longest name in the attendee list and then I take that person's name and make it as big as it will possibly get and still fit on the badge. Then everyone's name is that size. So if you want bigger names on your badges, go around and find the people with really long names and get them to shorten them."

Person 1: "You're doing a great job but I hate the shiny pages on this book - they just look so bad."
Me: "It's called a varnish and it costs about $800 more to do that. The printer who printed the program for free threw that in to make it look more professional."

In the Who the Hell Are You? Category:

Me: "Hey X, can you sign my copy of your new book for me? I think it's fun to get the signatures of my authors."
X: "Sure, what's your name?"
Me: "Oh sorry, I'm NG, I guess I know your face from the book cover, but you probably just know my voice."
X: "And where do you work, NG?"
Me: "Uh, in the office... you know... I designed the cover of your book and edited the content."
X: *blank stare*
(We exchanged more than 300 emails and phone calls about this project in the months leading up to the conference.)

Presenter: "My nametag is wrong. The office SCREWED UP... again!"
Me: "Well, tell me what's wrong? Because I'm the one who 'SCREWED UP'."
Presenter: "Oh I moved I don't live in this city anymore."
Me: "Did you write the office to tell us you moved?"
Presenter: "No."

In the World Revolves Around Me Category:

"I need to know whether breakfast tomorrow is at 7:30 or 8:00 because if it's at 8:00, well that will be VERY inconvenient for me. Please look it up now." This said to a colleague after she'd cornered us in the restaurant while we were off duty and trying to eat lunch. She couldn't even wait for my colleague to finish chewing food before demanding an answer.


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NaBloPoMe

Posted on 11/18/2006 10:26:00 AM In:
I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this.....

But I am wiped, have had less than nine hours sleep since Tuesday, have no time to write down the hundreds of comments and ridiculous things that have happened in the last three days where my inner monologue said, "Oh man, write that down... THAT would make a good post. You must tell the Interweb about THAT!"

So that shall have to wait for another day and for now, I shall fall back on gratuitous cuteness:


A far cry from those crappy snapshots we got in elementary school, huh? I'm thinking of reserving the photographer for her wedding. They had a different photographer do last year's and I got a picture that looks like the top and bottom of her face were photoshopped together.

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But I Will Miss You

Posted on 11/17/2006 09:57:00 AM

Top things I miss about home:
-- or --
I feel I need to make up for yesterday's post:

  • Sloppy kisses - at least from people that are related to me
  • Girlish giggles (but the students don't come until tomorrow so this one might change)
  • My waterbed (the hotel beds are nice, but nothing can compare)
  • NotAnSUV
  • The ability to go outside
  • Eating in front of the television
  • "Mom, you're the best!"
  • Sitting
  • Husband who buys me giant bags of cheeeesse
  • Someone to talk to who's not bitching about something I did

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I Can't Miss You if You Don't Go Away

Posted on 11/16/2006 05:00:00 AM

Top reasons a tiny little part of me doesn't miss my family all that much as I should and therefore feel guilty about it because I am a horrible mother and a worse person and I don't deserve to have such a great family if I can leave them so easily:

  1. Maid service
  2. Can put something down on a table in my room, assured that in 10 minutes I will be able to retrieve it rather than finding it by accident three days later stuffed inside a pink doll house
  3. Colleague cut a deal with hotel massage therapist - free massages for staff
  4. Can take a shower without company (of both the adult and child kind)
  5. Can also shave legs without water going cold
  6. Makeup has little chance to be used as paints at any time in the next four days
  7. Four words: control of the blankets
  8. Five words: control of the room temperature
  9. Three year old laughter, which is expressed as high pitched screams
  10. Can walk around naked in room without getting groped
  11. No Disney channel on television
  12. Adult conversation that doesn't involve tools, buying tools, using tools, or making tools
  13. No one crawls into bed with me at 2:00 in the morning and kicks the mattress repeatedly for an hour
  14. Can eat a piece of chocolate without hearing "Can I have some? Can I have some? Can I have some? Can I have some?"
  15. Can eat same piece of chocolate for breakfast without disapproving look from husband.
  16. Get to sit down for more than three minutes at a time without someone yelling at me that they need their butt wiped... oh wait... that happens here too.

Unrelated: how hilarious is it that when I got back to my room last night, I had a plate of cheese, compliments of convention services? If they'd only looked in my ice bucket, they could've saved themselves the time and effort.


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Why I Married the Right Man

Posted on 11/15/2006 09:19:00 AM

As I was getting ready to walk out the door to travel to our conference, or as I like to call it “this veritable hell that masquerades as an educational opportunity”, KingofHearts handed me a stuffed-full paper bag. “So you have something to eat.” Apparently he heard that in Kansas City they were out of food.

In it was:

  • Two Grāpples (pronounced “grape-pels” - this is a new phenomenon in our local grocery store produce department, a grape-flavored apple. They are good, but the real reason we buy them is because the font on the label makes the "G" look like a "C" and therefore we call them “Crapples”.)
  • Two packages Mini Muffins
  • Four Twinkies
  • Package of sliced pepperoni
  • ½ pound Gouda Cheese
  • ½ pound Edam Cheese
  • ½ pound Habanero Cheese
  • Crackers
  • Crackers with Cheese

This is at once, sweet and sad. Sad, because I've been doing this job so long that he knows without even being here that if he does not hand me a bag of food to stash under the conference registration desk, I will not be given a chance to eat because conference attendees do not care about my need to have a sqare meal once in awhile; they only care that I am there to tell them what the fastest way to the ballroom is, thereby saving them that extra effort of looking at the pesky map of the hotel that I had printed on the back of the program I just handed them and pointed out for their convenience. (Was that a run on sentence? It's six am on day two and I'm already brain dead.)

Sweet because the fact that 87% of what was in the bag was cheese or a cheese-related product simply proves how well he knows me. The cheese products are currently chilling in my ice bucket, awaiting tomorrow’s rush of conference registrants. And they say love fades after nearly 10 years of marriage.


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And a Tomato is a Fag

Posted on 11/15/2006 06:16:00 AM

American Scientist: We're being overrun by a bunch
of vegetables!

Japanese Scientist: Technically sir, tomatoes are
fags.

Doctor: He means fruits.

- Attack of the Killer Tomatoes


Dormouse: "What are we going to have for dinner tonight mama?"

NG: "Well, whatever we have, we're going to have it with a vegetable because I think it's been more than a week since you ate one."

D: "A vegetable?"

NG: "Yeah... you know what a vegetable is, right? Can you name some vegetables?"

D: "Ummmm.... green beans."

NG: "Right! What are some other vegetables?"

D: "Peas... but I don't like peas."

NG: "Right! Peas are vegetables. You used to like them when you were little."

D: "But I'm bigger now. Oh! Also broccoli."

NG: "Yep. Broccoli is a vegetable. How about carrots? Are carrots vegetables?"

D: "Yes."

NG: "Right again! How about an orange?"

D: *laughs* "No... an orange is not a vegetable."

NG: "Right... an orange is...."

D: "A snack."


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A Bass is a Fish

Posted on 11/14/2006 09:03:00 AM
For those of you who aren't well schooled in the classical music world (and that's pretty much everyone with a social life), here's a fact of life that almost every orchestral musician knows: conductors hate pops concerts.

For those of you who don't know what a Pops Concert is - ok, you have a social life and all, but could you at least turn on PBS once in awhile?

I have played in several different professional, semi-professional and volunteer orchestras in my life and I've never met one who wants to do them and most vehemenantly fight against doing them - even though they tend to be the bread and butter of symphony orchestras. One of the local orchestras in the area here does one pops concert per year and it pretty much pays for the entire rest of the season. So you see how it's a necessary evil... most musicians I know don't usually mind them so so much, but for some reason I've never met or heard of a conductor who doesn't whine, complain, agrue and gripe about them. The notable exception being
John Williams and he's got a dozen or so Oscars on his shelf to tweak his love a bit.

Awhile ago, I was rehearsing in an orchestra that was doing the music from
Crazy For You and one of the selections was a blusey number called Slap That Bass. Here's an example of the lyrics:

Zoom - zoom, zoom - zoom,
The world is in a mess.
With politics and taxes
And people grinding axes,
There's no happiness
Zoom - zoom, zoom - zoom,
Rhythm lead your ace!
The future doesn't fret me
If I can only get me
Someone to slap that bass

The orchestration requires the upright bass players to pluck their strings so hard that they make a slapping sound against the fingerboard - hence the name.

Music history lesson aside, this is the point of my story: the conductor of this concert was particularly acerbic and it became apparent that he knew nothing about this kind of music when he announced, "OK next, let's turn to Slap That Băss (pronouncing the word 'bass' as though it rhymed with 'class'). There was complete silence as the orchestra members tried to keep straight faces and turn the page, but apparently the hesitation was just a little too long and he caught on... "Is it băss (rhymes with 'class') or bāss (rhymes with 'face')?" he questions the orchestra. No one is brave enough to answer him. Except my friend, the principal bass player, who said (and this is why I love him and he is my friend): "Um.... a băss is a fish."

End of lesson, children, class dismissed.

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May I Ask What You Are Doing Here?

Posted on 11/13/2006 07:40:00 AM In: ,
I'll be out of town working at a confernece all this week and on the clock about 16-20 hours a day. When I signed up to do this NaBloMoFo thing last month, I thought it might be an interesting challenge to try and write something every day of November, so I submitted my intention to participate and told them they could include my weblog on the list.

About... oh I'd say... three... seconds after I hit the enter button to sign on, I realized that I was the Stupidest Person Alive and majorly screwed because not only would I be out of town for 10 days in November, but the weeks leading up to it are the busiest of the entire year for me at work.

In the first Kubler-Ross stage of grief, I futilely hoped that somehow my sign-up had gone awry, because for several days my blog did not appear on the list of Official Participants. But then onNovember 1st, it micarulously emerged. Of course that led me to stage two, Anger, as I thought, "Dammit. That thing wasn't clear. It should have said 'November, The Conference Month.' Doesn't everyone know The Conference is in November? Doesn't the rest of the world come to a halt when I go to a conference? November is a poor choice of months to do this thing anyway. Stupid month. Stupid NaBloMe. NaBloUToo."

I skipped right past stage three, Bargaining, after I realized I was too lazy to figure out whom to email to ask to take my name off the list and on to Depression, stage four, thinking, "Well, I'll just suck. I'll just miss days, and I'll suck and everyone will hate me and no one will read my blog ever again." When I realized that no one reads my blog now, I finally arrived at the last stage, Acceptance, where I have decided that I'll just throw some crap up each day if I can and even if it sucks, it'll be done. If I miss a day, it's not like the four people who read my blog would really care that much.

I've tried to avoid talking about NaPoHoMo thus far, because... man am I sick of reading on everyone's blog their whinings about this and how hard it is and I didn't want to lose too much face if I didn't get around to a post or two while out of town. But since I've gotten this far in the month, I'll try and keep going as best I can. In that case, I feel it's in people's best interest that I provide a warning that this blog will probably be filled with random crap for the next week and maybe afterwards while I recover from the conference and before new resolve to quit my job (which is always highest right when I get home) fades.

And so I present the first Random Crap of the week:

My favorite Google search criteria that have resulted in a hit on my weblog this month


is duff goldman a married man
alice in wonderland made on acid
underground houses
OCD stop hand washing
fake greg
pasty and pallid (WebMD search)
yellow wiggle pedophile
have to put on a bra
old pink stuffed bunny
suburu door left ajar
alice cincinatti

I am 90% certain I have never used the words "acid" or "cincinatti" here... until now, that is.

Two separate people came to the blog by googling "goldiblock". What's up with that? Who googles the word "goldiblock"? Besides me that is... (by the way, I get my site and my site only. I am currently the only person on the interweb to use the word "goldiblock" - there's gotta be some kind of award for that right? No? Well, then, let's move on.)

To all you who found me this way, Welcome. I'm sorry I wasn't what you were looking for.

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Because They Sound So Much Alike

Posted on 11/12/2006 08:52:00 AM
Extolling the virtues of one of the climactic scenes from The Little Mermaid (as if we hadn't seen it ourselves 30 times and needed the three-year-old reenactment to fully appreciate the scene we just watched three minutes ago):

"And then the crab cuts the rope with his grabby hand and the pec-schock swings down and knocks out the baker's teeth."

KingofHearts: "You mean, 'yard-arm' baby?"

"Yeah, that's what I meant to say. The yard-arm swings down and knocks out the baker's teeth."

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Fear and Loathing in Preschool

Posted on 11/11/2006 10:32:00 AM
Scene: I walk into the classroom to pick up The Dormouse from Class Day. Kids are inexplicably all coloring with only red colored crayons. I come through the door just in time to hear The Dormouse yell, "No! Stop that!" and smack another kid for coloring on her paper.

I say something like, "Are you being nice? Could you ask him politely to not color on your paper?" and she does.

The afternoon Teacher sidles up to me and says, "Um... could I tell you something? I wanna say something to you." and pulls me over to the corner, all conspiratorial-like.

"Crap," says the voice inside my head as that called-into-the-principal's-office feeling wells up inside and I conjure up at least a dozen things that have happened:

  • She has finally put another kid in the hospital.
  • My tuition check has bounced.
  • People at the school are as sick of The Little Mermaid songs as we are and are wondering if I do anything with her at home but watch that movie.
  • She's finally taught the other kids one of her inappropriate songs and the other parents are demanding that we be kicked out of the preschool.
  • One of the teachers has discovered my weblog and takes issue with my comments.
  • Someone from Child Protective Services has discovered my weblog and an investigation into my parenting abilities will be opened.
  • They don't like Mormons around these parts and are suggesting that we go elsewhere... like maybe Salt Lake.
  • They know about that red light camera ticket that KingofHearts got the other day.
  • She's repeated one curse word too many and if we don't clean up her language, we'll be asked to put a dollar in the swear jar.
  • She decided to demonstrate to the class Daddy's new hobby: throwing knives.
  • She's been telling the kids that she learned about the Holy Ghost in church, "Wooo-oooo. Boooooo!"
  • She grabbed a teacher's breasts and said, "Nice pumpkins!"

I snap back into reality as the Teacher puts a red crayon away and whispers, "I really think she's bored in this classroom and needs to move up to the three year old class. She's so much more advanced than the other kids here... you should talk to the director about it."

Oh... is THAT all?


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So I Married a Technophobe

Posted on 11/10/2006 10:36:00 AM
I don't know if I mentioned that I'm obsessed with Studio 60. I think it's probably that I'm doing penance because I never watched The West Wing and I feel the Aaron Sorkin gods must be placated at some point, but it's one of the shows that I record every week and watch later because I never get to see the first 20 minutes any prime time show due to the fact that Bewitching Hour of Bedtime starts at 8:00.

The other afternoon I watched the first few minutes of it but had to pause it when a violin student came over for a lesson. I hit the stop button on the VCR (yes, we are still living in the dark ages and have yet to enter the Glorious World that is TiVO) and said to KingofHearts to not mess with it until I got back in a half hour to watch the rest.

When my lesson was over, I came back only to discover that apparently while trying to change the channel on the television, KoH had instead managed to record 20 minutes of The Disney Channel... Right. Over. My. Unwatched. Show. And not only did he record over it, but he recorded over it at a much slower tape speed, so that 20 minutes of Disney Channel ended up covering up my entire one hour show.

I shot him the patented Incredibly Disappointed Look and shook my head.

KoH: "But... but... I didn't push the record button... I pushed the change the channel button. It just recorded all on its own."

Me: "It's a machine... it doesn't do anything on its own. It only does what you tell it to do."

KoH: "Well.... you can watch it in reruns, right?"

Me: "I heard they were canceling it."

KoH: "Maybe you can get it on Netflix."

Me: "Not if they never even complete one season."

KoH: *sigh* "Technology kicked my ass... what can I say?"

Thankfully technology saved mine... NBC had the entire episode on their website, so I got to watch the part I missed. Good thing too because it was a 'to be continued' episode and if I'd watched it next week and not known what was going on, I might have had to cut him.

This just in: Studio 60 saved. I'm sure it was because of the major influx of people logging into the NBC website to watch it online. Maybe technology kicked their spouses' asses too.

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Mumbler!

Posted on 11/09/2006 07:56:00 AM

See children? Everything in this room is eatable. Even I am
eatable! But that, my dear children, is called cannibalism; and is frowned upon in most societies.

- Mr. Wonka

The other day, we struck an unusual day care deal at work. Since it was election day, my colleagues' two sons were out of school while theirs was used as a polling place. Aside: does anyone remember school being closed on election day in the past? I know my elementary school was always used as a polling place, but they just closed the cafeteria and we went on with school as normal. I guess nowadays there are concerns about that many random people being on the school property and it not being safe for the kids? Or is this just another deal struck by the teachers' union?

Normally when this happens, she either takes leave and stays home with them or brings them to work. She can sit them in the conference room with a video and some crayons and they generally keep themselves busy. But in addition to being election day, last Tuesday was also the day we'd planned for the shipper to pick up 3000 pounds of supplies and products we'll be taking to the conference we have coming up next week. It's a huge job packing and coordinating several hundred boxes and she a) couldn't take off work because she's generally the person responsible for making sure all the boxes get labeled and numbered correctly and b) didn't really want to bring the kids to the office since there were rife opportunities to get in the way and it would be very hard to count and pack that many boxes correctly while watching a rambunctious six and eight year old.

Coincidentally, election day was one of my working from home days, so I offered to have her bring the boys to my house and I'd watch them all while she got the shipment off. Then she could pick them up when the job was done and head for home. So that's what we did. The Dormouse could not have been more excited, "They're coming to my house, they're coming to my house!" Any opportunity for social contact - even with kids more than twice her age and with whom she has little in common - is met with uncontrollable enthusiasm. She is so her father's daughter.

Anyway, after approximately two hours of the three of them running the circle that is our living room and kitchen, a colleague calling to ask a question and hearing only screams in the background, and copious amounts of macaroni and cheese, they finally decided to have a rest and watch a movie. The requested movie was Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, which Dormouse had seen many times and the boys had seen the 1970s version (Wily Wonka and the Chocolate Factory) only.


Here are some of the observations made during viewing of said movie:

"Wily Wonka is different."

"Violet & Veruca are biiig brats."

"Charlie Bucket is NOT a grownup."

"Mike Teavee is super cool."

*huge gasps of excitement when the door to the chocolate room is opened* "It's the most delightest thing I've ever seen!"

"Augustus Gloop is a pig."

"Mr. Wonka's boat is NOT very pleasant."

After the movie was over, they all begged to go outside, where the oldest and tallest became Mr. Wonka, bossing the others around and telling them to "Make more chocolate because I have customers coming in FIVE MINUTES." I believe the Dormouse was assigned the role of Oompa Loompa but was later fired for not making Wonka bars fast enough. Who knew watching a movie could be an interactive experience?

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Yo Voté

Posted on 11/08/2006 12:19:00 PM
Yesterday I took The Dormouse along with me while I did my civic duty and voted in the mid-term elections. When I voted in the primaries a few weeks ago, I probably could have left her with a neighbor or found a sitter, but thought that it'd be a good learning experience for her to watch her mom vote. And while I realize that instilling a sense of democratic responsibility at three is probably overly ambitious, it was easier than working out the logistics otherwise. Whatever the case, she seemed to not be a huge distraction at the primaries so I brought her along again yesterday.

I love that voting always happens on a Tuesday, which just happens to be one of the days I telecommute (can't stand the acronym WAHM and "tele
commute" sounds sooo much more technical and important anyway). I love my "WAH days", as my colleagues call them because they don't care that I prefer the term "telecommute": I don't have to rush to get ready in the morning; shower; make a crappy breakfast that doesn't even have a modicum of health attached to it but that fits into the schedule; dress a writhing, flailing child; drop her off at preschool; then brave the traffic which by now has gotten so bad I may as well park on the shoulder and walk to work, then come back to get the car in a couple of hours. But the absolute best part (other than being able to spend the day with my daughter, be an involved mother, watch her grow up, blah blah blah) is the dress code. My office attire on those days consists of men's pajama bottoms with Cootie Bugs on them, a t-shirt, fuzzy slippers and no bra. For the supreme civil right of voting, I generally give my due diligence and opt for slipping a bra on under the t-shirt, throwing on a jean jacket and maybe changing out of fuzzy slippers and into shoes... maybe. I generally go right at the crack of dawn, so as few people have to witness me in my telecommuting splendor as possible.

Last time, there were maybe three or four other people besides me at 7:00 am. In fact, one of the election judges told me yesterday that there were stretches of hours at the primaries where they had nothing to do because no one came. While we were there, The Dormouse was quiet, stuck right by my side the whole
time, beaming up at people from behind my leg and looking cute. Other than the broad smile, it was almost like she wasn't there at all.

What I didn't count on this time was her excellent memory: after I voted at the primaries, a poll worker gave me an "I Voted, Yo
Voté" sticker. I gave it to The Dormouse; she stuck it on her shirt; end of story. I'd totally forgotten it and thought she had too. But yesterday, after I gave the self-righteous, way-too-anxious-to-find-a-teachable-moment-lecture about how 'this is how we choose people to make decisions about how our country is run' in the car and after we passed the throng of people six inches before the No Polling Beyond This Point sign shoving literature in my face, we got to the door and she announced loudly (and by "loudly", understand "LOUDLY" in a middle school cafeteria/gym)... "Oooooooh....This is where I went the other day and I got a STICKER!"

The cafeteria was a full as I'd ever seen it at a Presidential election (an encouraging sign that our community isn't as apathetic as previously thought) and I don't think one of the bleary-eyed workerbees dressed for a day at the office was able to stifle at least a chuckle. Then for the 30 minutes while we stood in line, she danced around the open area of the room, singing, "Sticker, Sti-cker, I'm gonna get a sti-cker." She also sang the entire Ariel refrain from The Little Mermaid, but I'm pretty sure I was the only one who recognized that.


So it was sweet when the first voter came out from behind the makeshift wall made from cafeteria tables and chairs and handed her his sticker, saying, "I heard there was someone over here who needed a sticker." She beamed, yelled "Thank you..... Thank you for the stiiiiic-keeeer!" after him as he walked out the door and danced the Victory Dance of Stickerhood. Then another voter came from behind the Wizard's Curtain and gave her his sticker. And another. And another. By the time I got to the front of the line, she'd racked up nearly a dozen stickers and two pieces of candy.


I've never been more proud of our democratic process.

One election observation/sidenote: Arizona defeats an amendment banning gay marriage but Virginia approves one? What kind of bizarro-world are we living in?

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What Kind of Monster Does She Think I Am?

Posted on 11/07/2006 08:53:00 AM
"Mama, are these my mittens?"

"Yes."

"Mama, these are the mittens you bought me?"

"Yes."

"And you saw that I didn't have any mittens, so you got me some?"

"Yes."

"And you saw a little girl who had mittens on her hands and you went up to her and said, 'My Dormouse Girl needs your mittens and you should give them to me so the Dormouse will have some mittens.' And the girl's name was Polfshak and she had long hair like mine and you said, 'Give me your mittens now, Polfshak' and Polfshak said, 'Yes' and she took the mittens off and gave them to you and then you gave them to me so my hands would be warm and then Polfshak had cold hands?"

"Well, not exactly."

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Because I am Too Busy to Write a Real Post

Posted on 11/06/2006 03:04:00 PM
And because I love this picture more than life itself:


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Advanced Vapor Action Formula

Posted on 11/05/2006 10:48:00 AM

Words That Don't Mean What She Thinks They Mean

"Daddy, will you sing me another rock-a-bye song? I love to listen to your soden voice."

Or maybe they do:
Bad Soden is a popular residential town for
commuters working in
Frankfurt am
Main
. It is known for its various springs, which contain
carbonic acid gas and various iron oxides. The waters are used both internally
and externally, and are actually quite widely exported. Soden lozenges (Sodener
Pastillen), condensed from the waters, are also in great demand.

Who knew?

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Workin' on the Chain Gang

Posted on 11/04/2006 11:24:00 AM
In addition to Halloween, this week we celebrated the KingofHearts' thirtymumblesomething birthday. Although I don't think he planned it that way on purpose, Matt stuck around here all week and joined in all the Wonderland festivities... and also made me eggs.

In between all that important stuff, they decided that a good use of their time would be to build a forge in the backyard barbeque and pound six inch round pieces of steel into knives. So if you've been in our neighborhood any time this week, this is what you would have heard:


*bang clang clank clang*

"Man, that's hot"

*clang ding clunck*

"Look out, your shirt is on fire!"

*clang bang thud clang*

Yes... our neighbors just LUUUUV us. One of them actually came over to the house the other day and posted a sign on our tree that said, "Blacksmith on Duty."

Ultimately, the two of them spent a combined 30 or so hours creating two as yet unfinished knives that you could probably purchase (finished) for about 97 cents a piece at your neighborhood convenience store. But you don't tell them that. What you say to them is: "Wow. What marvelous craftsmanship... you can't puchase steel like that these days.... this is art!"

The Dormouse and I decorated the house and made a cake shaped like an anvil to commemorate the theme of the week (it was cheaper than purchasing an actual anvil like KoH had hinted at several times throughout the week). Based on this, I don't think Duff Goldman is going to be hiring me to work at his shop any time soon.


Art is having a hard time in Wonderland today.

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I'd Like My Bacon Bacon-y Too

Posted on 11/03/2006 10:17:00 AM
As I mentioned before, KingofHearts' friend Matt is in town staying with us on and off this week. This morning as we were making breakfast, he offered to cook for us. (I'm actually considering sabotaging his next couple of job applications so he'll visit more often.) This was the exchange when he inquired as to how The Dormouse would like her eggs cooked:

"How do you like your eggs?"

"Egg-y, please."

"Well that's good, because I know I hate it when my eggs aren't egg-y enough."

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Greediness Never Was Happiness

Posted on 11/02/2006 10:27:00 PM
The other day I dropped the Dormouse off at preschool - or as we call it, Class Day - just as they were giving the kids their morning snack. The mere mention of food and/or snack among a group of toddlers always causes a mêlée and one of the kids wasn't happy with the bagel on his plate and preferred instead the exact same bagel on another kid's plate. The Dormouse stood up and wagged her finger at him:

"You get what you get, and you don't get upset."


He sat back down and ate his own bagel. Man, I wish I had that kind of steet cred with toddlers.

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Oh Pumpkintree, Oh Pumpkintree

Posted on 11/01/2006 12:45:00 PM
We kinda dig Halloween in our house. Not because we're Worshipers of the Devil's Holiday like our neighbors believe or anything so serious. We just like creative costumes (that's me dressed as The Beltway at Cootie's Shower) and funny decorations and startling people.

I've tried very hard not to forcibly pass on my interests and/or prejudices to the Dormouse. For example, ever since I was seven years old and we moved into a house built in the 1960s and my bedroom had pink paint on the walls and pink trim around the windows and pink shelves and BRIGHT PINK SHAG CARPETING and my mother purchased, what else, pink sheets and a pink bedspread, I have despised the color pink. Someone once told me, "You're going to be cursed with a kid who loves Disney Princesses and pink clothes just because you hate them so much," and it's come true. And despite my irrational prejudice against the color pink and Happily Ever Afters, I've tried very hard not to let that interfere with Dormouse's very real and personal tastes and likes and dislikes. I'll try and purchase clothes and things that aren't pink because I prefer something else, but there are times when I give her a choice and she says, "I want the pink one - with Cinderella on it," and I have to back off... because, Crazy Lady, it's a COLOR and it's HER CHOICE.

I imagine I'll be fighting that internal battle much over the next few years. And I'll be fighting it externally when KingofHearts insists she become proficient with a katana by the time she's six.

But in the area of Halloween, Fall, and All Things Pumpkin, I do not have to worry because with very little encouragement from me, this child loves Halloween. Since before she could really talk, she was fascinated by pumpkins (one of her first words) and skeletons (which she called Mr. Funny Teeth) and loved dressing up and looking at every single Halloween display in every grocery, drug, and convenience store across the metro area.

And that makes me happy, because, man, was last night fun. We made sweet and spicy pumpkin seeds - as far as I'm concerned, the only way to consume them. We decorated the house. We trick-or-treated at all the houses in the neighborhood with decorations - because a three-year-old doesn't need that much candy and what she really loves is seeing all the decorations and exclaiming, "Oh. My! Look. At. That. House! What. In. My. Life!" We spent a good deal of time sitting on the stoop listening to Dormouse pontificate, "What a nice night for trick-or-treating" and watching her hastily grab a handful of candy and run out to the driveway to make sure the parents of kids who had come to the door also got their treats. We looked at the moon. We remarked how our black cat was the perfect Halloween accessory. We laughed our butts off when KingofHearts and his friend scared teenagers with a four foot fake spider that they'd rigged up to drop out of the tree when someone walked by. And we carved pumpkins... lots of pumpkins.

King of Hearts' two were scary:


Mine were sad attempts at creativity and covering up the places where my pumpkins had started to rot because we didn't realize that the pumpkin patch had some less-than-fresh pumpkins lying around. I used a power drill and a hole saw... and scored huge points on KingofHearts' Weird Sexual Fetishes Scale after doing that:


Dormouse chose whimsical and happy (the one on the left):


And our friend, visiting from out of town, went with the tribute pumpkin:


Do you see the likeness?


Happy Halloween Everyone!

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Washington, D.C. Metro, United States
Married, 40ish mom of two (or three, or four, depending on how you keep score) who stepped through the lookinglass and now finds herself living in curiouser and curiouser lands of Marriage, Motherhood, and the Washington, D.C. Metro Area.

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