I'm pretty sure Adulthood is a disease. Once you're afflicted there is no cure and the symptoms are painfully obvious. Small children recognize you as an authority figure the minute you open your mouth and larger children run from you because they know you're going to tell them whatever they're doing is unsafe. The only treatment is to not take yourself too seriously and laugh at how you've turned into the very people you swore you would never become.......YOUR PARENTS!!
Top 10 Ways You Know You're Finally An Adult:
10. You roll your eyes at your children when they go all "drama queen" on you and say things like, "If you had any idea....." or "When I was a kid....."
9. You read the obituaries.....and often know the people who died.
8. You vote in each presedential election and actually care who wins.
7. Whenever someone tells you they're taking a family vacation you think about how much it will cost instead of how fun it will be.
6. You no longer drive like a maniac and yell at the people who do.
5. You celebrate your coupon savings at the grocery store like you just won the Miss America Pagent.
4. You happily trade nights out "whooping it up" for nights in drinking wine and "getting crafty" with your girlfriends.
3. You often comment that the rating system for movies has deteriorated beyond redemption ("Really!?! Seriously!?! They can actually put that in a Disney movie now?? How is this movie rated PG-13?? They call THIS trash a FAMILY MOVIE??!!).
2. You turn the music in your car down instead of up.
And Finally:
1. You eat healthy serial (Wheat Chex...GASP!) without a bunch of sugar on it (double GASP!!) and LIKE IT!! (faint).
P.S. You also use words like "afflicted" and "redemption".......*sigh*.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Friday, November 16, 2012
Back pain, Bath time and Alien Probes
Sometimes life just isn't that funny. And I refuse to blog about the mundane or not-so funny stuff in my life. If you're looking for that stuff just jump on over to Facebook or the evening news. At any rate, there just really hasn't been anything worth blogging about lately, until yesterday. Now prepare yourselves for some serious funny!
Two days ago we got about 6 inches of snow, added to the 2 inches we already had. And yes my friends, that gives you......enough to go snowmobiling!! I bought a helmet off of Craigslist yesterday for $30 (new they are anywhere from $85 to $200), so I was set. So after returning home with my children I decided it was time to fire up the arctic cat 500 we bought this fall. Now the newer models have an electric start and all you have to do is push a button. We are not new model folks, so therefore ours has the standard pull-start. These were not designed for small women (or a hobbit, as I am often referred to around here). So I pulled, and pulled, and pulled. I worked up a serious sweat cranking on that stupid pull-start. I texted my friend Austin (snowmobile guru) and whined that I couldn't get it started. He replied that he found that funny and that perhaps I was "less than snowmobile material." I retaliated by calling him some choice names, and then returned to pulling on that damn cord. That's right, failure is not an option!! That snowmobile purred like a kitten while I stood there in 10-degree coldness and sweat like a whore in church (don't gasp at that phrase, my dad taught it to me so it's legal).
I had a blast scooting around the yard, down the driveway and out around Helen's cabin. I am truly snowmobile material, hobbit or not, because "I have a need, a need for speed!" Unfortunately, all of my determination and enjoyment landed me a big fat back ache that was a good reminder you "pay to play."
Moving on. I decided a nice warm soak was the perfect remedy for my exertion and subsequent aches so I happily placed myself into the tub. I was probably only in there 30 seconds before the first child asked, "Mom, when you're done can I have your bathwater?" "Sure," I said, "now get out." Approximately 2 minutes after that another child pulled back the curtain, "Are you done yet?" "No, get out," I replied. It is hard to relax with constant interruptions, not to mention every time you pull the curtain back (because apparently if I can't see you I can't hear you), it lets a big old draft of cold air in. Finally, after 15 minutes, Noah got sick of asking. He jerked back the curtain, stood there buck naked and informed me, "Mom, you are done!" Alrighty then, it looks like I am, like it or not. Note to self: Lock the frickin' door from now on!
As I had failed to achieve soaking satisfaction and I was pretty tired, I surmised an early bedtime was called for. As soon as the boys were tucked in, I turned in as well. About midnight Noah crawled into my bed (as he does most nights). This only roused me enough to roll over. However, the small cold feet that then jabbed my back, my legs, my stomach, my butt and who knows how many other places completed the job of waking me. I lay there thinking that an alien probe probably felt about the same and that sometimes I wouldn't mind being abducted by aliens because it would be like a vacation. Then I thought, "Seriously?? They'd probably make you a slave and you already hate taking care of the 4 people in your house now, imagine a whole spaceship full of needy little creatures?" With that I snuggled back in and drifted off.......
Two days ago we got about 6 inches of snow, added to the 2 inches we already had. And yes my friends, that gives you......enough to go snowmobiling!! I bought a helmet off of Craigslist yesterday for $30 (new they are anywhere from $85 to $200), so I was set. So after returning home with my children I decided it was time to fire up the arctic cat 500 we bought this fall. Now the newer models have an electric start and all you have to do is push a button. We are not new model folks, so therefore ours has the standard pull-start. These were not designed for small women (or a hobbit, as I am often referred to around here). So I pulled, and pulled, and pulled. I worked up a serious sweat cranking on that stupid pull-start. I texted my friend Austin (snowmobile guru) and whined that I couldn't get it started. He replied that he found that funny and that perhaps I was "less than snowmobile material." I retaliated by calling him some choice names, and then returned to pulling on that damn cord. That's right, failure is not an option!! That snowmobile purred like a kitten while I stood there in 10-degree coldness and sweat like a whore in church (don't gasp at that phrase, my dad taught it to me so it's legal).
I had a blast scooting around the yard, down the driveway and out around Helen's cabin. I am truly snowmobile material, hobbit or not, because "I have a need, a need for speed!" Unfortunately, all of my determination and enjoyment landed me a big fat back ache that was a good reminder you "pay to play."
Moving on. I decided a nice warm soak was the perfect remedy for my exertion and subsequent aches so I happily placed myself into the tub. I was probably only in there 30 seconds before the first child asked, "Mom, when you're done can I have your bathwater?" "Sure," I said, "now get out." Approximately 2 minutes after that another child pulled back the curtain, "Are you done yet?" "No, get out," I replied. It is hard to relax with constant interruptions, not to mention every time you pull the curtain back (because apparently if I can't see you I can't hear you), it lets a big old draft of cold air in. Finally, after 15 minutes, Noah got sick of asking. He jerked back the curtain, stood there buck naked and informed me, "Mom, you are done!" Alrighty then, it looks like I am, like it or not. Note to self: Lock the frickin' door from now on!
As I had failed to achieve soaking satisfaction and I was pretty tired, I surmised an early bedtime was called for. As soon as the boys were tucked in, I turned in as well. About midnight Noah crawled into my bed (as he does most nights). This only roused me enough to roll over. However, the small cold feet that then jabbed my back, my legs, my stomach, my butt and who knows how many other places completed the job of waking me. I lay there thinking that an alien probe probably felt about the same and that sometimes I wouldn't mind being abducted by aliens because it would be like a vacation. Then I thought, "Seriously?? They'd probably make you a slave and you already hate taking care of the 4 people in your house now, imagine a whole spaceship full of needy little creatures?" With that I snuggled back in and drifted off.......
Monday, October 15, 2012
Mishmash
Yikes! It's been over 2 weeks since I blogged. Really sorry if there are folks out there who check regularly to see what's up in our neck of the woods. Although in my defense, there hasn't really been anything exciting to report. School, work, sleep, school, work, sleep. That's about it.
My current favorite blogger, Katy Wolk-Stanley occasionally writes what she calls a mishmash. This is where she focuses a little bit on this and a little bit on that. After reading her blog this morning I decided I had enough material to do a mishmash as well.
1. Austin gave me a wonderful chuckle the other day when he asked, "Mom, do you know what I wear every single day?" Of course my first thought was his birthday suit, but that wasn't it. So I asked, "What do you wear every single day Austin?" And his reply....."My awesomeness!" Something I think we should all remember each morning. Today I am putting on my awesomeness :)
2. We got our very first little dusting of snow on the ground back on September 30th. We got our PFD's (Permanent Fund Dividend, i.e. money for living in Alaska) on October 4th. We decided this year we were going to really enjoy an Alaska winter as we're supposed to get even more snow than last year. So on October 13th, we bought our first snowmobile! It's a vintage 1981 Yamaha 300 that is perfect for the boys! And get this, our good friend Austin Earns brought it out to the house in his truck and when he pulled into the driveway, it started snowing hard! We got almost an inch :) Talk about a great start to winter. We also found a slamming deal on a Ski-doo 500 Summit for Dust and I yesterday. Both are older sleds but run great and will provide endless hours of entertainment for all.
3. We put a propane heater in the living room (2nd floor) which completes our preparations for a nice cozy winter nestled into our house (when we're not snowmobiling!) We have lots of wood stacked out back for the woodstove, lots of propane in the tanks and lots of fun stuff to do indoors. Bring it on Mother Nature!!
Hope this finds you all enjoying fall (or winter if that's the case) and ready for some winter fun.
Love,
Jules
My current favorite blogger, Katy Wolk-Stanley occasionally writes what she calls a mishmash. This is where she focuses a little bit on this and a little bit on that. After reading her blog this morning I decided I had enough material to do a mishmash as well.
1. Austin gave me a wonderful chuckle the other day when he asked, "Mom, do you know what I wear every single day?" Of course my first thought was his birthday suit, but that wasn't it. So I asked, "What do you wear every single day Austin?" And his reply....."My awesomeness!" Something I think we should all remember each morning. Today I am putting on my awesomeness :)
2. We got our very first little dusting of snow on the ground back on September 30th. We got our PFD's (Permanent Fund Dividend, i.e. money for living in Alaska) on October 4th. We decided this year we were going to really enjoy an Alaska winter as we're supposed to get even more snow than last year. So on October 13th, we bought our first snowmobile! It's a vintage 1981 Yamaha 300 that is perfect for the boys! And get this, our good friend Austin Earns brought it out to the house in his truck and when he pulled into the driveway, it started snowing hard! We got almost an inch :) Talk about a great start to winter. We also found a slamming deal on a Ski-doo 500 Summit for Dust and I yesterday. Both are older sleds but run great and will provide endless hours of entertainment for all.
3. We put a propane heater in the living room (2nd floor) which completes our preparations for a nice cozy winter nestled into our house (when we're not snowmobiling!) We have lots of wood stacked out back for the woodstove, lots of propane in the tanks and lots of fun stuff to do indoors. Bring it on Mother Nature!!
Hope this finds you all enjoying fall (or winter if that's the case) and ready for some winter fun.
Love,
Jules
Friday, September 28, 2012
You Don't Say......
Way back when I was in college we had to take sociology. One of the things we learned was that each family develops its own language. Certain phrases take on meanings that only that one particular family understands. Just like an inside joke. Well, as I've noticed before and again more recently, our family is no different.
I have previously blogged about how we never call body parts by their "normal" names. And everyone has a nickname. Recently, our little parrot (a.k.a Noah) has started throwing out things that we can easily pinpoint back to one family member or another. For example:
1. "What's up homes?" (that one would be me)
2. "Shut your face!" (Austin and Connor)
3. "Whatcha buildin'?" (Dustin)
I also smile when he tells me, "Good choice mom!" after picking a song to play in the truck and "Sounds like a plan!" when I fill him in on the day's itinerary. "I'm on it!" is echoed when he's asked to pick up toys or let the dogs in.
Sadly, he's also used a few less than favorable phrases not fit for writing on a blog post about a 4-year-old. I take responsibility for those as well. All in all, he is quite articulate for a 4-year-old and has developed quite the sense of humor. I think we'll keep him.
I have previously blogged about how we never call body parts by their "normal" names. And everyone has a nickname. Recently, our little parrot (a.k.a Noah) has started throwing out things that we can easily pinpoint back to one family member or another. For example:
1. "What's up homes?" (that one would be me)
2. "Shut your face!" (Austin and Connor)
3. "Whatcha buildin'?" (Dustin)
I also smile when he tells me, "Good choice mom!" after picking a song to play in the truck and "Sounds like a plan!" when I fill him in on the day's itinerary. "I'm on it!" is echoed when he's asked to pick up toys or let the dogs in.
Sadly, he's also used a few less than favorable phrases not fit for writing on a blog post about a 4-year-old. I take responsibility for those as well. All in all, he is quite articulate for a 4-year-old and has developed quite the sense of humor. I think we'll keep him.
Monday, September 17, 2012
It's Disgusting!!
Dear Austin,
Some day perhaps you will read this blog post. I hope we share a good laugh over it. I have a feeling we will beacuse you're that kind of kid, able to laugh at himself.
Yesterday I asked you to fold laundry. It was actually supposed to be punishment for snapping Connor with a bungee cord. It turned out to be what I consider a life lesson. You were definitely upset about having to fold laundry because you said "I'm not good at it." I replied that the more you did it, the better you would get at it. You thumped yourself down in front of the baskets and started folding. Then you got to my underwear.
You came to me and said, "Mom, I feel like it's inappropriate that I fold your bra and underwear." I tried to hide a smile. I told you I had folded your underwear more times than I could count. "But that's different," you said, "I'm your kid." "Maybe you're right," I said, "but clothes are clothes and my underwear are no different than shirts or pants." I tried reasoning with you for about 5 minutes, but you just dug your heels in and finally started crying. Then you said, "It's disgusting and I am NOT folding your underwear!!" I sent you to your room for yelling at me.
I wasn't sure how to proceed. On the one hand, I felt you had a legitimate gripe and I could see how a 9-year-old boy would find his mother's underwear less than sexy. On the other hand, you have an enviable knack for getting out of work and I could see this spiraling into "everybody's clothes but mine are disgusting...." I also try to remind myself that I'm not just raising sons, but future husbands, and before that men who will need to be able to take care of themselves.
So when you came back downstairs, much calmer, I spoke to you about all the things I've done for you that are "disgusting". I reminded you of poopy diapers that went up your back and down your legs, puke that covered every surface for 20 square feet, pee on the walls and yes, sometimes your underwear. Again you reminded me, "but you're my mom." I said, "I'm sorry Austin, but these are the facts of life. We all have to do things we'd rather not do. And while I understand that you're not crazy about touching my underwear, I promise you they are clean and won't transmit girl cooties."
You resigned yourself to the fact that mom was not going to budge on this one and acting as though they were on fire, very quickly folded my underwear into a barely recognizable wad and threw them at my pile of clothes. I assured you that after awhile underwear would be no big deal. You assured me that you doubted my wisdom on this one.
I love you Austin. You make me laugh, you are open, smart and kind. You are also very normal. And someday, you will be a good man just like Dust, who is practically impossible to gross out.
Love,
Mom
Some day perhaps you will read this blog post. I hope we share a good laugh over it. I have a feeling we will beacuse you're that kind of kid, able to laugh at himself.
Yesterday I asked you to fold laundry. It was actually supposed to be punishment for snapping Connor with a bungee cord. It turned out to be what I consider a life lesson. You were definitely upset about having to fold laundry because you said "I'm not good at it." I replied that the more you did it, the better you would get at it. You thumped yourself down in front of the baskets and started folding. Then you got to my underwear.
You came to me and said, "Mom, I feel like it's inappropriate that I fold your bra and underwear." I tried to hide a smile. I told you I had folded your underwear more times than I could count. "But that's different," you said, "I'm your kid." "Maybe you're right," I said, "but clothes are clothes and my underwear are no different than shirts or pants." I tried reasoning with you for about 5 minutes, but you just dug your heels in and finally started crying. Then you said, "It's disgusting and I am NOT folding your underwear!!" I sent you to your room for yelling at me.
I wasn't sure how to proceed. On the one hand, I felt you had a legitimate gripe and I could see how a 9-year-old boy would find his mother's underwear less than sexy. On the other hand, you have an enviable knack for getting out of work and I could see this spiraling into "everybody's clothes but mine are disgusting...." I also try to remind myself that I'm not just raising sons, but future husbands, and before that men who will need to be able to take care of themselves.
So when you came back downstairs, much calmer, I spoke to you about all the things I've done for you that are "disgusting". I reminded you of poopy diapers that went up your back and down your legs, puke that covered every surface for 20 square feet, pee on the walls and yes, sometimes your underwear. Again you reminded me, "but you're my mom." I said, "I'm sorry Austin, but these are the facts of life. We all have to do things we'd rather not do. And while I understand that you're not crazy about touching my underwear, I promise you they are clean and won't transmit girl cooties."
You resigned yourself to the fact that mom was not going to budge on this one and acting as though they were on fire, very quickly folded my underwear into a barely recognizable wad and threw them at my pile of clothes. I assured you that after awhile underwear would be no big deal. You assured me that you doubted my wisdom on this one.
I love you Austin. You make me laugh, you are open, smart and kind. You are also very normal. And someday, you will be a good man just like Dust, who is practically impossible to gross out.
Love,
Mom
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Ahhhh, the Fair
In Montana there are fairs all summer long. Just where we lived there was the Missoula fair, the Kalispell fair and the Plains fair. In Alaska........there is 1. But it's a doozy! The last several years we haven't had a lot of money to spend at the fair so it was usually a pretty subdued experience, but this year we were a little more flush so we had A LOT more fun.
We started out walking by all the vendors, ooohhing and ahhhing over hot tubs (me), snowmobiles and 4-wheelers (Austin and Connor), mini back massagers (Dustin) and construction equipment (Noah). Then we hit the food trail. Oh how we reveled. We paid so much for food we probably could have fed a small African country for a week. There were tamales, cheese curds, pizza and tacos followed by cotton candy, ice cream, a rootbeer float and a carmel apple. No one walked away hungry or unsugared.
Of course rides had to be ridden.....and for your enjoyment I have included pictures :)
No one puked! Although I came dangerously close on the carousel as it was whipping around at 0.2 miles per hour.
Finally we toured the barns. The kids were not impressed with the quilts or the artwork, but had a blast checking out all the animals. They had fun petting lambs, goats, cows and bunnies. They got to see baby chicks hatching and turkeys gobbling. I believe Noah summed up the day best when he told a rooster who had just cock-a-doodle-doo'd, "Chicken, that was AMAZING!!"
We started out walking by all the vendors, ooohhing and ahhhing over hot tubs (me), snowmobiles and 4-wheelers (Austin and Connor), mini back massagers (Dustin) and construction equipment (Noah). Then we hit the food trail. Oh how we reveled. We paid so much for food we probably could have fed a small African country for a week. There were tamales, cheese curds, pizza and tacos followed by cotton candy, ice cream, a rootbeer float and a carmel apple. No one walked away hungry or unsugared.
Of course rides had to be ridden.....and for your enjoyment I have included pictures :)
No one puked! Although I came dangerously close on the carousel as it was whipping around at 0.2 miles per hour.
Finally we toured the barns. The kids were not impressed with the quilts or the artwork, but had a blast checking out all the animals. They had fun petting lambs, goats, cows and bunnies. They got to see baby chicks hatching and turkeys gobbling. I believe Noah summed up the day best when he told a rooster who had just cock-a-doodle-doo'd, "Chicken, that was AMAZING!!"
Monday, August 13, 2012
Stinky Baby Sasquatch
I suppose its inevitable that my boys will eventually mature into men.....And for some reason I've decided that the easily observable physical signs are the hardest for me to accept. The boys however seem quite delighted with each new thing that makes them "more like dad."
Upon their return from Montana this year Austin announced that his legs were becoming quite hairy and that he was turning into a baby Sasquatch. I found this very funny and told him so. I also suggested he spend more time roaming the woods around our house just to see if his "true parents" were out there somewhere. He didn't find that very funny at all.
A few days ago Connor passed by me and caused me to wonder if I had forgotten to put my deoderant on that morning. So I casually sniffed and was relieved to discover that I hadn't forgetten, which meant......it was time to buy deoderant for the boys (which they used to refer to as "boyoderant" and loved to apply whenever Dustin was caught putting his on). I was pretty surprised that I had a hard time convincing them they needed it and even went so far as to make them smell their own armpits. The looks on their faces reminded me of someone who had to suck on a lemon knowing there will be no shot of tequila to follow. Total bummer dude.
Last of all, they will soon surpass my own hobbit-like stature and I will become the midget in my house. At only 9 years of age they are already at my shoulder so I'm forcasting another year or so before they're looking me directly in the eyes. And should they think that my vertically challenged condition equals weakness, I shall remind them that a lower center of gravity equals a much better tackle :)
Upon their return from Montana this year Austin announced that his legs were becoming quite hairy and that he was turning into a baby Sasquatch. I found this very funny and told him so. I also suggested he spend more time roaming the woods around our house just to see if his "true parents" were out there somewhere. He didn't find that very funny at all.
A few days ago Connor passed by me and caused me to wonder if I had forgotten to put my deoderant on that morning. So I casually sniffed and was relieved to discover that I hadn't forgetten, which meant......it was time to buy deoderant for the boys (which they used to refer to as "boyoderant" and loved to apply whenever Dustin was caught putting his on). I was pretty surprised that I had a hard time convincing them they needed it and even went so far as to make them smell their own armpits. The looks on their faces reminded me of someone who had to suck on a lemon knowing there will be no shot of tequila to follow. Total bummer dude.
Last of all, they will soon surpass my own hobbit-like stature and I will become the midget in my house. At only 9 years of age they are already at my shoulder so I'm forcasting another year or so before they're looking me directly in the eyes. And should they think that my vertically challenged condition equals weakness, I shall remind them that a lower center of gravity equals a much better tackle :)
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Feel the Noise
Today is going to be one of THOSE days. The kids woke up fighting. The dogs woke up whining and I think I woke up with this headache. No wait, I did not have this headache before the kids got up. And of course we have things to do, places to go and people to see, so locking myself in my bedroom is probably not an option.
I saw the best cartoon the other day, it showed this furry little monster with huge eyeballs. The caption read, "I put redbull in my coffee pot this morning instead of water. Now I can SEE noises!" An accurate description of how this morning feels I must say.
Therefore I will resort to my stress-reliever of choice, my imagination. Perhaps if I imagine places that are more noisy and chaotic than my home, I will feel better about beingtrapped stuck here. Here is a top 10 list:
10. New York City.
9. A NASCAR race.
8. The tarmac of O'Hare International Airport.
7. Bike week in Daytona.
6. A professional football game.
5. A Southern Baptist revival camp.
4. A California freeway at rush hour.
3. The state fair on "Kids Get In Free Day"
2. Mardi Gras.
And of course, lets not forget.....
1. All you can eat crab legs at Hooters on a Friday night.
Yup, I feel a little better. Peace out my friends :)
I saw the best cartoon the other day, it showed this furry little monster with huge eyeballs. The caption read, "I put redbull in my coffee pot this morning instead of water. Now I can SEE noises!" An accurate description of how this morning feels I must say.
Therefore I will resort to my stress-reliever of choice, my imagination. Perhaps if I imagine places that are more noisy and chaotic than my home, I will feel better about being
10. New York City.
9. A NASCAR race.
8. The tarmac of O'Hare International Airport.
7. Bike week in Daytona.
6. A professional football game.
5. A Southern Baptist revival camp.
4. A California freeway at rush hour.
3. The state fair on "Kids Get In Free Day"
2. Mardi Gras.
And of course, lets not forget.....
1. All you can eat crab legs at Hooters on a Friday night.
Yup, I feel a little better. Peace out my friends :)
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
A Modern Day Love Affair
Don't be confused darlings, that is a picture of my brand-spanking new dishwasher. As many of you know I have been living a
At any rate, due to my husband's recent job switch and massive amounts of overtime, we can finally afford to start heading back into the 21st century. This last weekend we went to Lowe's where I thoroughly harrassed the nice salesman and finally picked out a new dishwasher. It was in and running in no time and I happily encouraged my friends to eat as much as they wanted and use ALL my dishes if they liked, since I no longer had to stand in front of the sink and wash them one by one!
Now I often find myself gazing lovingly at my dishwasher, speaking sweet nothings to it while I load dirty dishes in it and when no one is looking I even stroke the clean white button panel.......but I digress.
I know how anxious you are to hear about the arrival of my sweet little washer and dryer next month, so I will dutifully keep you posted :)
Love,
Jules
Monday, July 16, 2012
The Old Switcheroo
I love change. Lots of it, all the time. I tend to change my hair color every few months, my vehicle every few years and my underwear every day. My mom says I'm a bit of a gypsy. I love new places, faces and spaces baby! Unfortunately I am now married and a mother.....and not everyone likes change as much as I do. So I get by with little changes here and there, things like paint or pictures, so on and so forth. One of my most favorite changes has always been rearranging furniture. You can have a whole new room in 10 minutes! Again, pretty sure I'm the only one in my family that feels this way as everyone else rolls their eyes and groans when I say, "Let's just change it up a bit in here shall we?"
My latest project has been moving Noah to the top floor and moving my office from the cleaning closet to Noah's old room. In order to move Noah upstairs, I had to move his brothers over into the other room. This has been AWESOME. I've gotten to paint like a crazy woman, move lots of furniture and make a bazillion trips up and down the stairs (good for the glutes and hammies!) Sadly, my husband does not share my enthusiasm and for those of you who know my husband, this is not surprising.
On Sunday I asked for his assistance in moving furniture from the basement to the 2nd floor. He trudged down the stairs as slowly as possible while I jumped around like the squirrel in Over The Hedge (who acts like he's on crack and speed simultaneously). Dustin patiently asked, "Haven't we already moved these several times?" To which I replied, "Nope, you're hallucinating. We've only moved the corner desk from the old house to this house, right into this spot, and the white desk from upstairs to its current location." I could see him mentally treading water as he searched for another tactic to avoid this chore. As I'm sure you've surmised, he didn't find one and the furniture is now in its next temporary location.
I often think that the desire to keep things the way they are is just around the corner and someday I'll be content to just sit back and enjoy the changing of the seasons, changing the radio station and changing my daily calendar page. Bwahahahahaha (hysterical evil laugh). As IF!!
My latest project has been moving Noah to the top floor and moving my office from the cleaning closet to Noah's old room. In order to move Noah upstairs, I had to move his brothers over into the other room. This has been AWESOME. I've gotten to paint like a crazy woman, move lots of furniture and make a bazillion trips up and down the stairs (good for the glutes and hammies!) Sadly, my husband does not share my enthusiasm and for those of you who know my husband, this is not surprising.
On Sunday I asked for his assistance in moving furniture from the basement to the 2nd floor. He trudged down the stairs as slowly as possible while I jumped around like the squirrel in Over The Hedge (who acts like he's on crack and speed simultaneously). Dustin patiently asked, "Haven't we already moved these several times?" To which I replied, "Nope, you're hallucinating. We've only moved the corner desk from the old house to this house, right into this spot, and the white desk from upstairs to its current location." I could see him mentally treading water as he searched for another tactic to avoid this chore. As I'm sure you've surmised, he didn't find one and the furniture is now in its next temporary location.
I often think that the desire to keep things the way they are is just around the corner and someday I'll be content to just sit back and enjoy the changing of the seasons, changing the radio station and changing my daily calendar page. Bwahahahahaha (hysterical evil laugh). As IF!!
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Blink and You Miss It
Blink and you miss it is a phrase often associated with things like really tiny towns, lightening and the amount of time a $100 bill stays in my wallet. It would also be aptly used to describe this summer in Alaska. We've had maybe a week of sunshine. While my mother is down in Montana bitching about the heat, I'm up here bitching about the rain. The grass is always greener........in Alaska.
A few posts ago I told you about Greta and her amazing digging ability, which has been directed in a full-on offensive at my flower beds. Throughout all the digging I was still able to hold on to hope that the annuals I put in containers this year would flourish. Too bad they're drowning. The cucumbers in my garden only made it through the first week after transplant before they declared there would be no pickles this year, yellowed up and died. I stood over them and said, "You are the weakest link!" Hardy vegetables my ass.
I've always believed that it's best to try and find the bright side in everything as much as possible, but I'm really struggling with this one. We had 139" of snow this last winter (almost 12' for those of you who are also math challenged). I figured God had "blessed" us with as much precipitation as one area could ask for. Boy, when I'm wrong I'm really wrong (refer to first husband for another classic example of this theory in action).
Oh well, I suppose acting like a big old cry-baby-pee-pants won't make the rain stop. Perhaps I should start designing umbrellas. Do you suppose anybody would want one that says "Noah built his ark and all I got was this dumb umbrella."?
A few posts ago I told you about Greta and her amazing digging ability, which has been directed in a full-on offensive at my flower beds. Throughout all the digging I was still able to hold on to hope that the annuals I put in containers this year would flourish. Too bad they're drowning. The cucumbers in my garden only made it through the first week after transplant before they declared there would be no pickles this year, yellowed up and died. I stood over them and said, "You are the weakest link!" Hardy vegetables my ass.
I've always believed that it's best to try and find the bright side in everything as much as possible, but I'm really struggling with this one. We had 139" of snow this last winter (almost 12' for those of you who are also math challenged). I figured God had "blessed" us with as much precipitation as one area could ask for. Boy, when I'm wrong I'm really wrong (refer to first husband for another classic example of this theory in action).
Oh well, I suppose acting like a big old cry-baby-pee-pants won't make the rain stop. Perhaps I should start designing umbrellas. Do you suppose anybody would want one that says "Noah built his ark and all I got was this dumb umbrella."?
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
I Paint with Food
When we moved into our current house we knew the entire inside would require a fresh coat of paint. Of course this job falls to me as I am "The Homemaker Extraordinaire." As if. At any rate, regardless of my skills, it's my project. Let me just say, I have always had a fear of putting colors together. I first noted my inability to do this well when I started dressing myself 30 years ago. The other children usually looked pretty well put together. I looked like a hot mess in horizontal stripes and paisley with hair that usually hadn't been combed. This lack of color coordination was again confirmed in middle and high school when we were required to take art. I nailed black and white, failed color collage. Now, here I am faced with the challenge of a color scheme for an entire home. And I am determined not to fail.
Here's what I have learned about myself in the interim since age 4. I like color! I like BOLD colors, jewel tones, rich warm colors that make you want to sink into them. I also like food. Why is this relevant you ask? Because they name paint colors after foods!!! I know right?? I was as excited as you are. This changes everything! I KNOW food. I am good at food.
So I headed to Lowe's and started picking through the paint chips, focusing on the colors I was drawn to. For the stairs I found sugarcane, a very smooth but warm white. Moving into the kitchen I found pomegranate red and crumb cookie, another soft white. I am on a roll!!
I am a little nervous about the living room and have held off picking those colors yet because they have to coordinate well with the kitchen, since one flows into the other. I'm leaning towards a coffee color, coffee with lots of cream......maybe if I take my morning cup into Lowe's they could match it for me.....
Here's what I have learned about myself in the interim since age 4. I like color! I like BOLD colors, jewel tones, rich warm colors that make you want to sink into them. I also like food. Why is this relevant you ask? Because they name paint colors after foods!!! I know right?? I was as excited as you are. This changes everything! I KNOW food. I am good at food.
So I headed to Lowe's and started picking through the paint chips, focusing on the colors I was drawn to. For the stairs I found sugarcane, a very smooth but warm white. Moving into the kitchen I found pomegranate red and crumb cookie, another soft white. I am on a roll!!
I am a little nervous about the living room and have held off picking those colors yet because they have to coordinate well with the kitchen, since one flows into the other. I'm leaning towards a coffee color, coffee with lots of cream......maybe if I take my morning cup into Lowe's they could match it for me.....
Monday, June 25, 2012
Stranded
When I hear the term stranded I picture someone stuck out in the middle of nowhere, car broke down, in a desperate state of mind. Well, I too have been stranded recently.......but not because my car broke down.
I think most people have to pee first thing when they get up in the morning right? Well, I do anyway. And this morning was just like every other. Only when I went to grab for the T.P, there was NONE!! My head whipped over to the shelf where I store the backup rolls and there was NONE!! For me this causes a sensation similar to the feeling of the pilot saying "Put on your oxygen mask and put your head between your knees ladies and gentlemen, it's going to be a bumpy landing."
I quickly racked my brain because I knew that I had known we were getting low. I definitely remembered adding it to the grocery list and I also remembered grabbing it off the shelf when I bought groceries last night. So where was it now? Still in the truck? No, we brought all the groceries in. Did I get distracted by the cute cart boy who took my cart in the parking lot and forget to grab it off the bottom of the cart? No, well, yes I was distracted but I'm sure the cart was empty when I handed it over. Conclusion, the checker had failed to put it back in the cart after she scanned it. I scrolled through my options for punishment of this offense including mooning her, wrapping her car in toilet paper and going through her line with every single package of toilet paper off the shelf, but none of these seemed to fit the crime so I decided I would just take my receipt back to the store and get my toilet paper.
Now it was game time and a decision had to be made. Shower curtain or the waddle of shame over to the Kleenex box. Damn that woman for forcing me into this position!! Literally!! Don't worry mom, I voted out the shower curtain and instead made like a penguin. And really, if I had that much shame, would I have blogged about it? Nope. No shame in my game folks.
I think most people have to pee first thing when they get up in the morning right? Well, I do anyway. And this morning was just like every other. Only when I went to grab for the T.P, there was NONE!! My head whipped over to the shelf where I store the backup rolls and there was NONE!! For me this causes a sensation similar to the feeling of the pilot saying "Put on your oxygen mask and put your head between your knees ladies and gentlemen, it's going to be a bumpy landing."
I quickly racked my brain because I knew that I had known we were getting low. I definitely remembered adding it to the grocery list and I also remembered grabbing it off the shelf when I bought groceries last night. So where was it now? Still in the truck? No, we brought all the groceries in. Did I get distracted by the cute cart boy who took my cart in the parking lot and forget to grab it off the bottom of the cart? No, well, yes I was distracted but I'm sure the cart was empty when I handed it over. Conclusion, the checker had failed to put it back in the cart after she scanned it. I scrolled through my options for punishment of this offense including mooning her, wrapping her car in toilet paper and going through her line with every single package of toilet paper off the shelf, but none of these seemed to fit the crime so I decided I would just take my receipt back to the store and get my toilet paper.
Now it was game time and a decision had to be made. Shower curtain or the waddle of shame over to the Kleenex box. Damn that woman for forcing me into this position!! Literally!! Don't worry mom, I voted out the shower curtain and instead made like a penguin. And really, if I had that much shame, would I have blogged about it? Nope. No shame in my game folks.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
An Only Child
I know what you're thinking, "but caring for just one must be easier." You're wrong. It most definitely is not.
An only child has ONLY his mother to distract him, entertain him, fight with him and play with him.
Most days Noah and I follow a pretty relaxed routine that includes me working, him catching up on Dora the Explorer, some yard work, housework and a little TV in the evening. Other days there is no relaxation to be found.
For example, some days go like this:
1. Noah finds it funny to put his underwear and pants on incorrectly, usually when we're trying to get ready to go somewhere. This entails putting both feet into the same hole and hopping around yelling, "MY PANTS ARE ON BACKWARDS!!"
2. Puts "only a little bit" i.e. huge glob of toothpaste on his toothbrush and then proceeds to smear it on the counter, the floor, his shirt and the sink. I'm usually pretty unsure any made it into his mouth.
3. Tries to recreate the tsunami of 2011 in my bathtub. Pretty sure that doesn't need any more explanation.
4. Lays on the dog, jumps over the dog, jumps onto the dog, uses the dog as a launching pad, steals the dog's toy......and then cannot understand why the dog snapped at him which hurts his feelings and causes him to cry.
5. Last but not least, hijacks a king-size bed by pretending to be a barnacle and attaching himself firmly to my person at which point he begins to generate enough heat that causes me to think spontaneous combustion will be the cause of our house burning down.
Laugh it up everybody. Someday I'm going to come to your house and recreate these incidents and see how funny YOU think it is!! :)
Friday, June 15, 2012
Puppy Love
Almost a year ago now I informed my husband that our 3 boys "needed" a puppy. Our first 2 dogs were older and that was pretty much all they remembered. I argued that every little boy should have the "puppy experience." My husband argued that we were a 2-dog family. I won. So I began searching for a dog that would be smaller than Beanie (a 75-pound bull terrier) and Mac (a slightly obese Aussie Shepard/Blue Heeler mix). To my credit, I looked for quite awhile. Finally, on the Alaska Dog and Puppy rescue website I spotted her. She was an adorable "village mix" from Bethel. A small black little fluff ball that they were guessing would grow to between 20 and 30 pounds. She looked like a total scamp to me and I was instantly in love. We adopted the small black fluff ball and I named her Greta. I fooled no one. Greta was my puppy.
Greta is great fun. She's also a lot of other things. Stubborn (took FOREVER to potty train). An indiscriminate snuggler (anyone sitting is an instant target). A chewer (goodbye 2 pairs of slippers, countless toys and most recently my favorite hat that I've had for 10+ years!). A kisser (ears, face, legs, no body part is off limits). And lets not forget, a digger.
I recently planted about 20 or 30 gladiola bulbs in the flower bed right by the front door. I was so excited to finally have a flower bed again as I haven't had one since before we moved to Alaska 3 years ago. Greta didn't waste any time. She immediately began excavation work looking for that elusive tunnel to China. In the process, she unearthed pretty much every bulb in that bed. I figured she would be satisfied now that she "knew" what was in there. I was wrong. It has become an incredibly exasperating game that we play where I replant the bulbs and smooth the dirt over them, she reassures me she is just going outside to pee, I pray that she will not touch the flower bed this time, and she attempts to create a new world record for how far dirt can be flung backwards in a single dig.
You would think I would attempt some preventative measure such as closing off the bed or covering it in some way. Something to prevent Greta's repeated attempts at exhumation. But no, I have decided to go a different route. I informed my husband yesterday via text that I had decided to plant explosives in that flower bed instead. My calm and patient husband simply texted back, "Just let me know where the trip wire is."
Greta is great fun. She's also a lot of other things. Stubborn (took FOREVER to potty train). An indiscriminate snuggler (anyone sitting is an instant target). A chewer (goodbye 2 pairs of slippers, countless toys and most recently my favorite hat that I've had for 10+ years!). A kisser (ears, face, legs, no body part is off limits). And lets not forget, a digger.
I recently planted about 20 or 30 gladiola bulbs in the flower bed right by the front door. I was so excited to finally have a flower bed again as I haven't had one since before we moved to Alaska 3 years ago. Greta didn't waste any time. She immediately began excavation work looking for that elusive tunnel to China. In the process, she unearthed pretty much every bulb in that bed. I figured she would be satisfied now that she "knew" what was in there. I was wrong. It has become an incredibly exasperating game that we play where I replant the bulbs and smooth the dirt over them, she reassures me she is just going outside to pee, I pray that she will not touch the flower bed this time, and she attempts to create a new world record for how far dirt can be flung backwards in a single dig.
You would think I would attempt some preventative measure such as closing off the bed or covering it in some way. Something to prevent Greta's repeated attempts at exhumation. But no, I have decided to go a different route. I informed my husband yesterday via text that I had decided to plant explosives in that flower bed instead. My calm and patient husband simply texted back, "Just let me know where the trip wire is."
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
I Used to Blog
I used to blog, on this very blog right here.
I used to write about the things that I thought were dear.
Truthfully, there is an endless supply of funny things being said and done by my family.
So for Bop and Nommie, Aunt Erin and Emily,
Again, I will blog for thee.
Today I stumbled back upon my blog and read through the old posts. And decided it is time, time to start blogging again, on this very blog right here. Turns out it is a really fun way to sift through the funny little moments I had forgotten about. It'll be a nice way to share them with the kids when they're older. And Lord knows I don't right this stuff down anywhere else. So brace yourselves, Smiffs in Alaska is back!!
I used to write about the things that I thought were dear.
Truthfully, there is an endless supply of funny things being said and done by my family.
So for Bop and Nommie, Aunt Erin and Emily,
Again, I will blog for thee.
Today I stumbled back upon my blog and read through the old posts. And decided it is time, time to start blogging again, on this very blog right here. Turns out it is a really fun way to sift through the funny little moments I had forgotten about. It'll be a nice way to share them with the kids when they're older. And Lord knows I don't right this stuff down anywhere else. So brace yourselves, Smiffs in Alaska is back!!
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