I think I've mentioned before how my kids like to play slug bug in the back seat. Except instead of "slugging" we play for "slug bug queen" bragging rights. Here's a little snippet from the other day.
Red: Slug Bug
Me: Nope - Mini Cooper
Red: Slug Bug
Me: That's a Smart Car
Red: Slug Bug
Me: Try PT Cruiser.
Me: Slug Bug
Me: Slug Bug
Red: Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on the road?
Boop: Slug Bug!
Red: Where?
Boop: The pink one! Slug Bug! Slug Bug! Slug Bug!
Red: Oh, sure, all the imaginary pink slug bugs count. Then I see a slug bug - look at all the imaginary blue slug bugs - they're everywhere! Slug bug, slug bug!
Me: Didn't you guys like that penguin song...'turning on ipod'
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On Christmas Eve we bundled the kids into their velvet dresses - plaid flannel for Mystery Man, thank you very much - and I should add that Boop's black velvet was twinkled up with her red striped sparkley converse and purple Dora sunglasses.
"Boop looks like a rock star." Red said on the way out.
We headed for church in the city and on the way heard little snippets of conversation from the back row of the Durango.
Red: Boop, what's the funniest thing you say?
Boop: Seriously!
Red: Would you use seriously in a sentence?
Boop: Sentence. Seriously!
Red: No, a sentence is...
Boop: I know what a sentence is - it's what you use when you can't see. You've got 5 of them: smell, touch, ears...
Red: No, a sentence is...
Me: Just leave it alone - Boop doesn't correct well. But I did try...
Me: Boop, Red meant a sentence, and you were talking about the senses.
Boop: Yeah, that's what I call them for short.
Then we made it to service where our pastor read from the King James Bible in a giant, leather armchair wearing a matrix overcoat, a red plaid scarf, and a studded bracelet and he totally owned that look. I love a little steampunk in my Christmas!
Today was a flurry of paper and bows and tissue and squeals and giggles - also robotic bugs (Mystery Man is running away from one right now), robotic hamsters (I persuaded Boop not to trim it's whiskers), sparkly guitars (Mystery Man absconded with Boop's when she wasn't looking and stashed it in a back bedroom), plastic firehouses (with loud, loud sirens), hungry hippos (so fun!), bacon and eggs (so yummy!).
My Red One asked for a Webkinz for Christmas, a bird Webkinz so she can get the treehouse room - so I got her a robin. Of course. I should have taken into account her quirky, slightly obvious sense of humor because she's been making jokes all day. Most recently she told me,
"Hey Robin, have you seen my Robin? (giggle fit) Oh, I don't think I'll ever get tired of that joke. I don't care if it is a little on the nose."
Now, DH is off looking for takeout so I don't have to cook tonight and we're headed to a movie once the kids fall asleep (don't worry, their grandparents will be here).
Thanks for letting me share my Merry, and quirky, Christmas! I hope you've all had a lovely day, too.
Then let us all with one accord
Sing praises to our heavenly Lord
That hath made Heaven and earth of nought
And with his blood mankind has bought.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!
Hey there,
I just updated the pitch for Lamplight to reflect how the story actually turned out.
Just wanted to let you know in case it pops up in your blogreader.
In other news...
Last night DH and I celebrated 10 years together. WOO! He had an evening all planned around my favorite things - book readings, Christmas lights, gluten free pizza. He's a keeper, clearly, because I've kept him for 10 years. :)
Today Mystery Man and I tackled Christmas shopping, while DH took the girls to the movies. Boop, my walking infomercial, is the easiest to shop for by far, so she's all done. And MM expressed his love and devotion for a firehouse with a working ladder truck and siren, so that's going under the tree, too - along with some cowboy boots. He's a teensy tiny bit obsessed with cowboy boots.
And I'm *almost* over SYTYCD. Almost.
Seriously, we're calling that a results show? It's like the Glee kids put on a results show.
Can we talk about Cat not being miked?
The poor girl's talking, and we can't hear her - TWICE. And neither could the dancers, apparently, because when she asked them to come out, we only got half of them. So she has to ask them again, and then the other three come out practically carrying Russell who's crying and shaking because his leg is all busted and she tells him to just stand there a minute. WHAT?
Then goes on with the elimination. And has to walk over to poor Ryan, because he's HOLDING RUSSELL UP!
I do not blame Cat. I blame whichever yay-hoo producer was yelling in her ear to just get on with it.
Unbelievable.
I don't want to take anything away from Russell. He's a great dancer, and it's great to have a krumper win, and it would have been a nice dramatic ending to a great season what with his busted leg and pround mama and big reaction - if we'd HAD a great season.
As it stands, it was more like the cherry on top of a mud pie. Bleh.
I want my show back!
Was anyone else a little disappointed in the SYTYCD finale last night? Or is everyone else a little more emotionally healthy and not quite as invested?
It was just like any show during the season. Ugh. Season 6, I shake my fist at you!
In other news, Mystery Man does not approve of Cafe Lladro's straws, and foam art is lost on him. He took out all of our little black straws when we got home and replaced them with straws from the pantry. He's also not big in changes in routine.
Also, I've officially finished with Lamplight. I just fixed an action scene. I wish the whole book were dialog, which it occurs to me, is a screenplay. But I don't want to write a screenplay, so I'd better figure out how to make my main character RUN. He'd rather just chat about running. Much like me.
1) You're walking through the house thinking you should be able to do a standing back flip, and that housework would be so much more fun if you could
2) You inadvertently add Adam Shankman to your Christmas list - this is not quite as bad as when you kept finding things you thought Lorelai would like for Christmas.
3) On your to do list is "wish all my favorite dancers a Merry Christmas" on twitter, facebook, or wherever you happen to stalk them
4) You're really bothered by the "top 6 finale" - why? Are the changing the format? Trying to end the season sooner? Not enough weeks till Christmas? Did they get as sad as I did when Legacy left, so they've just decided to end it? Is this more fall out from the best tap dancer EVER not getting on the show this fall? *cough* Kasprzak *cough*
Ok, so, I'm off to get a grip...
But while I'm up - just a note that my kids have been making me play Brad Paisley's "Penguin, James Penguin" over and over and over again. Someone really needs to turn it into a claymation special, because it's fabulous. It's about how Santa keeps tabs on all the kids with his secret agent penguin.
But, there's this line, "He's got satellite uplinks in his cufflinks, he knows everything you do."
And Red asks, "What are cufflinks?"
And so I explain... then ask, "But you're fine with 'satelite uplinks?'"
She says, "Yeah, I assume that has to do with the GPS."
So, that's what we've got folks, a generation for whom cufflinks are more foreign than satellites.
It's cold in Seattle. Cooooolllld for the temperate coast huggers up here. Here are a couple of conversations I've had after school with Red to see if she was warm enough.
Me: Red, were you freezing today?
Red: No, I'm not 80% frozen?
Me: Um, do you say that because you were 80% covered up? (*GUILT* her tights had holes in them, so I had to send her in knee socks)
Red: No, I say that because I'm about 80% water, so that's how much of me could have frozen, and it didn't!
Oh.
The next day...
Me: Were you freezing today? (she is sporting a pair of new tights, so hopefully not)
Red: Well, if by freezing you mean actually *frozen*, then no. But if by freezing you mean feeling freezing, then yes, I am.
There's a reason I'm buying her the periodic table for Christmas.
Now she is playing as quietly as my girls ever play in the next room.
Boop: Hey, I'm gonna give this thing to Mystery Man because it's not girlish enough. Could you get me a girlish one for Christmas?
Red: I don't think they come girlish.
Boop: Yes, they do, they have them at Barnes and Noble. (my kids know the inventory at Barnes and Noble *very* well)
Red: Oh, ok, well, I can't tell you or it wouldn't be a surprise, so you just have to keep hoping.
At this point, Red recites "Hope is a thing with feathers" by Dickinson to her less than impressed little sister - who just wants the toy, thank you very much.
I'm working on getting Boop to respond with, "Yes, ma'am."
I'm not southern, but I like that it conveys one has heard and (hopefully) understood what has been asked of them, and will comply. This is especially important in Boop. Also, the school my kids go to requires it and we'd better start soon with this one. Plus, if she ever wants to try out for the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders, she's gonna have to know how to say it, if "Making the Team" is any indication! OK, so that point's less important.
But, in classic Boop fashion... she's turned it on me. I can hear her singing from the other room at the top of her lungs:
"Yes, Ma'am" is a good thing to say!
"Yes, Ma'am" is gooooood!
"Do you want a poodle?" "Yes, ma'am!"
*sigh*
I gave my eyes a break from the devil discs for a couple of days. Now they seem slightly less evil, but I wouldn't say I trust them. It would be like dating Hugh Grant. You really want to think he's as cute and loveable as he looks, but you remember how things ended with Elizabeth Hurley.
A friend of mine (thank you, Jason!) sent me this tour of a steampunkified home. Having lived in a 1905 home briefly, I have no desire to ever do so ever, ever again. Ever. Ever. Again.
But, if you're gonna restore one, this is the way I'd do it! I'll share a couple of my favorite pics here. I'll tell you now, they're worth putting your contacts in for!.JPG)
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I signed up to drive for my daughter's field trip to the aquarium. Or so they tell me. I can't really believe I signed up to drive on her birthday, but they seem to be counting on me, so I'm going.
But, I have a teensy tiny problem in that the arm popped off of my glasses. This is the second time. I've been driving with glasses that only have one arm for far too long. I could go get a new pair, but my prescription has run out. So I have to go sit in that chair and look through all the lenses and say "One, two, four, six" while they figure out how bad my eyesight really is. And it's bad. At least I could still read the big E.
And frankly, I haven't wanted to take my kids with me for that exam, and I keep having more emergent babysitting needs, so no prescription.
But I can't go to the aquarium blind. Nor can I whisk the glasses of when I get out of the car to save embarrassment, because I have to keep track of for kids and the Mystery Man.
Yes, that's right. He's coming. I got babysitting for Boop, but MM doesn't stay with anybody that's not mama, or keeping him in constant supply of hot cocoa. And he absolutely can scream for 2 hours at a time. You should see me try to walk past the church nursery. He takes a wide berth, my friends.
And did I mention I'm supposed to bring treats because it's Red's birthday.
So, it's the day before the field trip, and I'm panicking about being blind, but sure something will come to me. And it does! Contacts! If you go for a contact exam, you leave with a sample pair. Huzzah! I get a 3:30 appointment. I'll just take the kids.
But that's crazy. So DH offers to watch them, then finish his work after dinner. Ok, great. I go. I look through the lenses. So far so good. I say breezily that I used to wear contacts, and stopped, but would like to get some again.
Oh good, they say, you're an old pro. We can skip the $80 fitting and "class".
Of course you can!
Um, but then it took me half an hour to put in the first one. I had neglected to mention that I'd last worn contacts 12 years ago (was college really that long ago?)And eventually gave up because I could never get them in. Now you see how great is my determination to be Super Field Trip Mom.
An hour and a half and one bored 18 year old watching me the whole time later - I have contacts in my eyes.
And they're not coming out till after the field trip, folks.
Oh, and there's a birthday party.
I'm scheduling my psychic break for about 10 pm - which is probably when I'll be trying to ply these little discs of evil out of my eyes.
Welcome to December everyone!
Wrapping up November, I'll say that I had a lovely birthday complete with a gluten free chai cardamom cake and a new ipod to replace the one that Mystery Man relocated. The toilet hasn't been flushing well. Please tell me that can't be the reason.
We also had a lovely Thanksgiving. DH cooked for 2 days so that I could have pumpkin pie, stuffing, gravy, and all of those luscious things that contain evil, evil flour. I just watched the kids and the Macy's parade* and some football to keep my eye out for the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. Yes, I watch "Making the Team." There, I confessed. I blame the Fun Aunt and her Furball for getting me hooked. I think I did grate some orange rind at one point, and the kids peeled "tomatoes" (potatoes).
Boop told us she'd been peeling them for years and didn't need any help. Then she dropped one.
"Daddy, we need to wash this one!"
"That's ok, Boop, I'm gonna wash them all before I cook them."
Boop looked less than convinced. "Well, I'm just gonna polish it up on my shirt, then."
Red told us she was thankful for friends and family, Boop is thankful for poodles, and I assume Mystery Man is thankful for hot cocoa, since he can't make it through a day without it - much like me and my vanilla lattes.
And now, I'm prepping for Red's 9th birthday tomorrow, getting ready to drive for her field trip tomorrow, making gluten free snacks for her class birthday celebration, tomorrow, and buying an organizer so I'll never have so many things to do on the same day again.
After that, I'll just have Mystery Man's birthday, my anniversary (10 years!), two hula performances, one Christmas concert, and Christmas itself to contend with. That's why I was supposed to be done with Lamplight by now. As it stands, I have 12 pages left to edit and about 3 more scenes to write.
* In case you unaccountably missed my favorite tap dancer when they cut away to Detroit, you can see him here. You're welcome!
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