Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Hooliganting: A Chapter of Accidents
Hooliganting: A Chapter of Accidents: There are those things in life that are sent to try your patience. These are the same things that make you very grateful that you are still ...
A Chapter of Accidents
There are those things in life that are sent to try your patience. These are the same things that make you very grateful that you are still alive and in one piece. I have experienced one of these weekends, and for lack of a better way to put it...a chapter of accidents is hopefully closed. So...what are the stories that make up the weekend? Let me tell you.
My chapter started with Thursday's episode. I managed to get stuck in traffic on my way to get my youngest. The elder child had decided to dawdle. So, I was running late. Running late on the day that report cards are due is not necessarily the most terrible thing, but tell that to my Grade 1 student who opened her report card herself. I arrived to the school to witness a full scale meltdown and when I asked for the teacher, I was informed that she was on a plane to a conference and wouldn't be available. Not fabulous news. No amount of consoling or pep talking managed to convince her that homework was a good idea this weekend. She flat out refused to work stating things like "why work when it doesn't pay" and "everyone else is smarter than me" and "NO!". She's over it now, but that was not a fun start to a long weekend.
By Friday, I was ready for a break and so having escaped from the kids for a bit thanks to playdates and such, I thought I had about 45 minutes to go out and grab a warm, hot cup of Tim's steeped tea with a friend I hadn't seen in awhile. I had a delightful chat and visit with her. At five minutes to four, I mentioned that we needed to go and that she could drop me off at the house where my youngest was playing. The timing was perfect. The car was occupied and my lovely chauffeur pulled out in her wee camray. Going straight through the parking lot, IT happened. A large dodge truck started to back out. He was headed straight for me and thankfully, my friend gunned the car and we shot forward. It wasn't fast enough. When a big dodge hits a little car, there becomes a mighty large dent and a huge headache. Paperwork was exchanged and instead of picking up my kids on time, I wound up at the police station doing more paperwork.
The weekend wasn't finished with me yet. On Saturday, I had to work at Old Fashioned Christmas. Normally, I understand that the weather channel is not to be trusted. However, I was totally optimistic with the forcast predicted all week and dressed accordingly. What a mistake on my part. I had to work the volutneer table. It was located outside and the temperature stayed well below zero, unlike the plus one that had been offered. After two hours, I was given a heater and my day improved but I was chilled to the bone. In retrospect, I have to say that I was grieviously offended by the plus eight that arrived the day after. Seriously? I found myself at home and had a great evening with lots of company and some "cupcakes".
Seems like quite an eventful weekend doesn't it? But sometimes...life sneaks up and bites you. Monday after work, I got a buzz on the phone. My friends husband was in hospital with burns from a workplace accident. This has led to much child management, care giving and moral support for burns are definately not my idea of fun, nor are lengthy hospital stays. He will get better and the situation will improve, but for the moment...definately on the record....
NO MORE ACCIDENTS. I am done!
My chapter started with Thursday's episode. I managed to get stuck in traffic on my way to get my youngest. The elder child had decided to dawdle. So, I was running late. Running late on the day that report cards are due is not necessarily the most terrible thing, but tell that to my Grade 1 student who opened her report card herself. I arrived to the school to witness a full scale meltdown and when I asked for the teacher, I was informed that she was on a plane to a conference and wouldn't be available. Not fabulous news. No amount of consoling or pep talking managed to convince her that homework was a good idea this weekend. She flat out refused to work stating things like "why work when it doesn't pay" and "everyone else is smarter than me" and "NO!". She's over it now, but that was not a fun start to a long weekend.
By Friday, I was ready for a break and so having escaped from the kids for a bit thanks to playdates and such, I thought I had about 45 minutes to go out and grab a warm, hot cup of Tim's steeped tea with a friend I hadn't seen in awhile. I had a delightful chat and visit with her. At five minutes to four, I mentioned that we needed to go and that she could drop me off at the house where my youngest was playing. The timing was perfect. The car was occupied and my lovely chauffeur pulled out in her wee camray. Going straight through the parking lot, IT happened. A large dodge truck started to back out. He was headed straight for me and thankfully, my friend gunned the car and we shot forward. It wasn't fast enough. When a big dodge hits a little car, there becomes a mighty large dent and a huge headache. Paperwork was exchanged and instead of picking up my kids on time, I wound up at the police station doing more paperwork.
The weekend wasn't finished with me yet. On Saturday, I had to work at Old Fashioned Christmas. Normally, I understand that the weather channel is not to be trusted. However, I was totally optimistic with the forcast predicted all week and dressed accordingly. What a mistake on my part. I had to work the volutneer table. It was located outside and the temperature stayed well below zero, unlike the plus one that had been offered. After two hours, I was given a heater and my day improved but I was chilled to the bone. In retrospect, I have to say that I was grieviously offended by the plus eight that arrived the day after. Seriously? I found myself at home and had a great evening with lots of company and some "cupcakes".
Seems like quite an eventful weekend doesn't it? But sometimes...life sneaks up and bites you. Monday after work, I got a buzz on the phone. My friends husband was in hospital with burns from a workplace accident. This has led to much child management, care giving and moral support for burns are definately not my idea of fun, nor are lengthy hospital stays. He will get better and the situation will improve, but for the moment...definately on the record....
NO MORE ACCIDENTS. I am done!
Monday, November 21, 2011
Hooliganting: You can lead a horse to water
Hooliganting: You can lead a horse to water: Over the years, I can't tell you how many times I heard those fateful words "Because I said so". Being a rather curious sort of person, I pr...
You can lead a horse to water
Over the years, I can't tell you how many times I heard those fateful words "Because I said so". Being a rather curious sort of person, I probably muttered in my head thousands of times that I was never going to utter those words. I was especially not going to utter those words with exasperation, disgust or temper in my voice. Not I. Like many parents before me, I have been forced to "eat" those words as I found myself shaking my head in both wonder and disgust as I said "Because I said so". So, what got me to that point in my day?
There is another adage that also rang true today. "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make them drink." In our rather frozen climate, such as it is, the balmy -22 degrees Celcius seems a rather cold, icy, frigid way to wake up in the morning. More so, the wind was biting and ice pellets stung the eyes. One of the first things I do in the morning is get up, dress and start the van.
I am an odd creature. I like to be warm. In fact, I love to be toasty warm. I can be bundled up with winter woolies, scarves, mittens and toque and still be cold. I can race out to the van, turn the key and race back in without a coat but I have to have a hot drink soon thereafter to mitigate the effects. Oh yes, I feel the cold.
However, apparently I have a child that seems to think that winter is a joke. The cold must be a figment of my imagination. She came prancing down the stairs today in a white tinkerbell dress. Might I add that it was sleeveless? No tights nor sweater were worn. This was her choice of outfit for school. I marched her back up the stairs and pointed out the purple fleece pants and matching sweater and bade her change. Well, a few minutes later, she came prancing down the stairs in a white tinkerbell dress. We repeated the process, but then I realized that if I didn't hurry up, the other princess would miss her coach ride to the school.
Frantically, I gathered up backpacks and lunches, hauling them to the van. The children were supposedly getting into their winter kit. Now, the elder child rather is like me. She loves to be warm and will wear a winter coat in summertime. No worries there so I turned my attention back to the other muppet. My youngest conceded that I wasn't about to let her go out in her tinkerbell dress. So, she pranced down the stairs in beige leggings, white long sleeved shirt and...the tinkerbell dress. She fought me on snowpants and snow jacket. And as the almost properly attired (for -30 degree weather including windchill) child left the house, she piped up "How come I have to wear all this stuff because you're cold?"
"Because I don't want you to get pneumonia and because I said so!" The door slammed and the key turned in the lock. Battle won. Or was it? She got off the bus this afternoon wearing her snowboots and her jacket. The rest of the winter gear was in her backpack. The zipper was not done up. She skipped merrily home through the snow and ice, blending in rather nicely.
I shook my head in disgust. You can lead a horse to water...so true.
There is another adage that also rang true today. "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make them drink." In our rather frozen climate, such as it is, the balmy -22 degrees Celcius seems a rather cold, icy, frigid way to wake up in the morning. More so, the wind was biting and ice pellets stung the eyes. One of the first things I do in the morning is get up, dress and start the van.
I am an odd creature. I like to be warm. In fact, I love to be toasty warm. I can be bundled up with winter woolies, scarves, mittens and toque and still be cold. I can race out to the van, turn the key and race back in without a coat but I have to have a hot drink soon thereafter to mitigate the effects. Oh yes, I feel the cold.
However, apparently I have a child that seems to think that winter is a joke. The cold must be a figment of my imagination. She came prancing down the stairs today in a white tinkerbell dress. Might I add that it was sleeveless? No tights nor sweater were worn. This was her choice of outfit for school. I marched her back up the stairs and pointed out the purple fleece pants and matching sweater and bade her change. Well, a few minutes later, she came prancing down the stairs in a white tinkerbell dress. We repeated the process, but then I realized that if I didn't hurry up, the other princess would miss her coach ride to the school.
Frantically, I gathered up backpacks and lunches, hauling them to the van. The children were supposedly getting into their winter kit. Now, the elder child rather is like me. She loves to be warm and will wear a winter coat in summertime. No worries there so I turned my attention back to the other muppet. My youngest conceded that I wasn't about to let her go out in her tinkerbell dress. So, she pranced down the stairs in beige leggings, white long sleeved shirt and...the tinkerbell dress. She fought me on snowpants and snow jacket. And as the almost properly attired (for -30 degree weather including windchill) child left the house, she piped up "How come I have to wear all this stuff because you're cold?"
"Because I don't want you to get pneumonia and because I said so!" The door slammed and the key turned in the lock. Battle won. Or was it? She got off the bus this afternoon wearing her snowboots and her jacket. The rest of the winter gear was in her backpack. The zipper was not done up. She skipped merrily home through the snow and ice, blending in rather nicely.
I shook my head in disgust. You can lead a horse to water...so true.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Hooliganting: There Once Was Girl...
Hooliganting: There Once Was Girl...: You can poke fun at me all you like, but why break with tradition? It seems that everytime there are more girls in the house, the more stori...
There Once Was Girl...
You can poke fun at me all you like, but why break with tradition? It seems that everytime there are more girls in the house, the more stories I have to tell. They are just too good not to.
My afternoon started with the eldest bringing me home the best report card that she had ever had. I was estatic. To celebrate, we decided that we would go to Boston Pizza for lunch. This meant bringing the other child and her friend. Trying to order food took a while as they had to peruse the menu. The menu was read aloud (and I mean LOUD) in both French and English before they resorted to singing their requests to the waitress. Shhh and turn down the volume were muttered to no avail. So, now we have to wait.
The waitress returned with coloring sheets and books. That led into mixing colors to create new ones. I had a shock when the younger two were talking about their day. It started off relatively harmless. They had completed some color mixing experiments in class today and I guess there was a surprise when orange was created instead of green. My daughter then started talking about a particular boy...who likes a lot of the girls. He had gone to the girls bathroom instead of the boys and caused a bit of a commotion. Nothing much there until I asked the other girl, well isn't he your special boyfriend? (They had been kissing a couple of weeks back). I got told "Oh no Mrs. M. He goes with K and they kiss all the time." My lovely lass confirmed this and I just looked anywhere but at them for fear of laughing.
That was the end of that. Now, my borrowed child is quite a storyteller. Turns out that she was spinning a tale about candyland and my elder daughter was to be queen of the land. The land was made of red suckers. Of course the crown wouldn't last long as it was made of suckers too. The grandparents were Grandpa and Grandma sucker (I wonder how many grandparents feel that way?) and when I suggested lollipops, I got "suckerpunched" with a litany of why they could not be lollipops. I still can't explain it. Anyway, the most humorous part was when I got told people in candyland can't eat healthy foods as they would get cavities. Since they were all living in candyland, they didn't have to eat their lunch as it would give them cavities and they didn't want to go to the dentist. Instead, they should have dessert as people in candyland never get cavities from junk food. Master manipulators or what?
So, now we are at home. I have managed to do some online Christmas shopping. We had had a fashion parade of costumes and the girls have played with their Monster High dolls. (Ok...so one had a wee misshap and broke her arm...[doll not child]). A bit of TV was watched, but of course there are always surprises. When the delightful mom showed up to collect her cinderella, we got the information that they had watched a short DVD in my room? When did they sneak in there? I have been doing laundry half the afternoon and I didn't see the evidence. Sigh...I guess that is the way of girls. All in all, it has been a productive afternoon.
Festival of Trees...you're on deck!
My afternoon started with the eldest bringing me home the best report card that she had ever had. I was estatic. To celebrate, we decided that we would go to Boston Pizza for lunch. This meant bringing the other child and her friend. Trying to order food took a while as they had to peruse the menu. The menu was read aloud (and I mean LOUD) in both French and English before they resorted to singing their requests to the waitress. Shhh and turn down the volume were muttered to no avail. So, now we have to wait.
The waitress returned with coloring sheets and books. That led into mixing colors to create new ones. I had a shock when the younger two were talking about their day. It started off relatively harmless. They had completed some color mixing experiments in class today and I guess there was a surprise when orange was created instead of green. My daughter then started talking about a particular boy...who likes a lot of the girls. He had gone to the girls bathroom instead of the boys and caused a bit of a commotion. Nothing much there until I asked the other girl, well isn't he your special boyfriend? (They had been kissing a couple of weeks back). I got told "Oh no Mrs. M. He goes with K and they kiss all the time." My lovely lass confirmed this and I just looked anywhere but at them for fear of laughing.
That was the end of that. Now, my borrowed child is quite a storyteller. Turns out that she was spinning a tale about candyland and my elder daughter was to be queen of the land. The land was made of red suckers. Of course the crown wouldn't last long as it was made of suckers too. The grandparents were Grandpa and Grandma sucker (I wonder how many grandparents feel that way?) and when I suggested lollipops, I got "suckerpunched" with a litany of why they could not be lollipops. I still can't explain it. Anyway, the most humorous part was when I got told people in candyland can't eat healthy foods as they would get cavities. Since they were all living in candyland, they didn't have to eat their lunch as it would give them cavities and they didn't want to go to the dentist. Instead, they should have dessert as people in candyland never get cavities from junk food. Master manipulators or what?
So, now we are at home. I have managed to do some online Christmas shopping. We had had a fashion parade of costumes and the girls have played with their Monster High dolls. (Ok...so one had a wee misshap and broke her arm...[doll not child]). A bit of TV was watched, but of course there are always surprises. When the delightful mom showed up to collect her cinderella, we got the information that they had watched a short DVD in my room? When did they sneak in there? I have been doing laundry half the afternoon and I didn't see the evidence. Sigh...I guess that is the way of girls. All in all, it has been a productive afternoon.
Festival of Trees...you're on deck!
Monday, November 14, 2011
Hooliganting: Caking it old school...
Hooliganting: Caking it old school...: This is the season of chaos and mayhem in my house. The walls are ringing with loud laughter, chattering girlish voices, operatic style shri...
Caking it old school...
This is the season of chaos and mayhem in my house. The walls are ringing with loud laughter, chattering girlish voices, operatic style shrieking (thanks to the youngest who believes she can sing?) and games of high order. The reason that there are so many of them is that they have come for the cake. What cake? The penultimate birthday cake.
This particular weekend, I opted to give the real Cake Boss the day off. I know, you should be shaking your head in chagrin, I quite agree. However, I got it into my nonscensical head that sometimes it would be nice for her to feel appreciated in that she now works full time, has other commitements and I had already hit her up for two cakes in the past six weeks; one for the youngers party and one for the first birthday party held in the house for the eldest. I discovered early on that if you hold the birthday party early, there is still the expectation of another cake on the day of the REAL birthday. There is the twist that gets them too cakes instead of one. Why didn't I think of that when I was younger? Oh right, I would have been told to get some sense and that money didn't grow on trees. I am too soft I think. (and I really like cake!).
So, since I talked myself into baking the cake, that meant that I had to have the idea. Harnessing a smidgeon of the imagination of what my eldest loves, I wandered into Chocolates by Candlelight. I had a coupon for six free chocolates if I bought six. They had mice. Large chocolately mice. The idea hatched...mice and she loves nutcrackers, especially the nutcracker ballet. I would bake a nutcracker cake. Sounds simple...right?
Ok, I put the chocolates into a cupboard and promptly forgot about them. Ok, so I sampled a carmel roll and decided to ignore the rest and really did forget about them after that. The Wednesday before the birthday arrived and I conned a coworker into going grocery shopping with me. Cake mixes and icing jars were buy one and get one free. I can take a hint. I bought the supplies. I put them in the cupboard and thought no more of them until Saturday when I realized if I didn't start baking, I wouldn't have cake. That wouldn't be popular since I invited a whole bunch of people for cake....
So, I managed to assemble the mixes. I made a chocolate rectangle, a chocolate square and a chocolate circle. I still didn't really have a plan. I stood in the kitchen while they baked on the grounds that if I left, I would burn the cakes and then...more trouble. I took the cakes out on time and then let them cool. There is where the trouble began. I tried to flip them out of the pans only to have them fall apart. So, I reassembled them with some icing. It was a good thing that I bought two containers...phew. I put the rectangle down, the square next and then the circle. Icing was put over the joints to assemble. I had both chocolate and vanilla. Already, it looked like a hot mess. Sigh...call for help or abandon ship?
I am too stubborn I guess. I got out the red chopsticks and shoved them in strategically to make sure it stayed together. Then I shored up the outside with marshmellows. Red and green icing was used to distract the eyes and to add some color (OK it was more glue...sigh) I then realized that it was looking well...interesting. So, it was go big or go hide in shame. I got out the sprinkles and covered the cake. I added icing happy birthday and candles and a nutcracker ornament. Then found a small doll to be clara. Then I added the mice and chocolates.
She loved it. It was bright and tacky and cheerful and full of creativity. It tasted good and really, that was the important thing. The barbeque went well and all were fed. I breathed a huge and heavy sigh of relief. I had a cake, and it almost worked. But...in a very small voice and with the biggest puppy dog eyes I can muster...
Cake Boss...you still reign supreme so will you do the next one?
This particular weekend, I opted to give the real Cake Boss the day off. I know, you should be shaking your head in chagrin, I quite agree. However, I got it into my nonscensical head that sometimes it would be nice for her to feel appreciated in that she now works full time, has other commitements and I had already hit her up for two cakes in the past six weeks; one for the youngers party and one for the first birthday party held in the house for the eldest. I discovered early on that if you hold the birthday party early, there is still the expectation of another cake on the day of the REAL birthday. There is the twist that gets them too cakes instead of one. Why didn't I think of that when I was younger? Oh right, I would have been told to get some sense and that money didn't grow on trees. I am too soft I think. (and I really like cake!).
So, since I talked myself into baking the cake, that meant that I had to have the idea. Harnessing a smidgeon of the imagination of what my eldest loves, I wandered into Chocolates by Candlelight. I had a coupon for six free chocolates if I bought six. They had mice. Large chocolately mice. The idea hatched...mice and she loves nutcrackers, especially the nutcracker ballet. I would bake a nutcracker cake. Sounds simple...right?
Ok, I put the chocolates into a cupboard and promptly forgot about them. Ok, so I sampled a carmel roll and decided to ignore the rest and really did forget about them after that. The Wednesday before the birthday arrived and I conned a coworker into going grocery shopping with me. Cake mixes and icing jars were buy one and get one free. I can take a hint. I bought the supplies. I put them in the cupboard and thought no more of them until Saturday when I realized if I didn't start baking, I wouldn't have cake. That wouldn't be popular since I invited a whole bunch of people for cake....
So, I managed to assemble the mixes. I made a chocolate rectangle, a chocolate square and a chocolate circle. I still didn't really have a plan. I stood in the kitchen while they baked on the grounds that if I left, I would burn the cakes and then...more trouble. I took the cakes out on time and then let them cool. There is where the trouble began. I tried to flip them out of the pans only to have them fall apart. So, I reassembled them with some icing. It was a good thing that I bought two containers...phew. I put the rectangle down, the square next and then the circle. Icing was put over the joints to assemble. I had both chocolate and vanilla. Already, it looked like a hot mess. Sigh...call for help or abandon ship?
I am too stubborn I guess. I got out the red chopsticks and shoved them in strategically to make sure it stayed together. Then I shored up the outside with marshmellows. Red and green icing was used to distract the eyes and to add some color (OK it was more glue...sigh) I then realized that it was looking well...interesting. So, it was go big or go hide in shame. I got out the sprinkles and covered the cake. I added icing happy birthday and candles and a nutcracker ornament. Then found a small doll to be clara. Then I added the mice and chocolates.She loved it. It was bright and tacky and cheerful and full of creativity. It tasted good and really, that was the important thing. The barbeque went well and all were fed. I breathed a huge and heavy sigh of relief. I had a cake, and it almost worked. But...in a very small voice and with the biggest puppy dog eyes I can muster...
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Hooliganting: Too tired to think
Hooliganting: Too tired to think: Business. Busyness. What is the difference? Sometimes, I have absolutely no idea. Today, the munchkins that inhabit the realms of the imag...
Too tired to think
Business. Busyness. What is the difference? Sometimes, I have absolutely no idea.
Today, the munchkins that inhabit the realms of the imaginary world that exisits within the wall of my house were off school. Today was a day when they could sleep in and play. However, since they could sleep in...apparently this was all the knowledge that they needed and they opted to get up and get cracking. I also wound up with two "not my kids my kids" to help out those who still had to go to work. Schools don't think about daycare when they decide that teachers need a break.
This morning was also eventful in that it snowed. Invariably, people seem to panic and forget everything they know about winter driving over the summer. They get used to being able to stop on a dime. Tires are supposed to grip and hug those corners didn't you know. I heard that people took anywhere from 1.5 hours to 3.5 hours to get to work. Being sensible, of course I decided to take them all to the YMCA.
The YMCA turned out Ok in the end (had to deal with a few policy glitches etc long suffering sigh here). We were in the pool for over 1.5 hours and had even more time on the play structures. I was already tired by the time we got home at 1. Next up was lunch and then I settled in to do some work...with the interruptions of the inside/outside/inside game, snacks and fluid breaks. The I/O/I game is where they can't agree on an inside game so the crew bundle up in all their winter gear and go outside for about 10 minutes before deciding that it is too cold and come in. There were forgotten mittens and doors opening and closing all the time. Once it was over, we had a cat with a queen game, school teacher games and zhu zhu pet games.
It suddenly dawned on me that I had to get the girls ready to go around 3 in the afternoon. There was yet another mad scramble for shoes and mittens; coats and hats. One child was picked up by an equally busy mom, one child was delivered home, one was delivered to a pool and another to dance. One was picked up from the pool and delivered to dance while one was met at dance and told to chill out. Then, since the case of the missing tap shoe bag is still unsolved, it was off to buy tap shoes. Got those and returned to home base for dinner at 7.
Dinner was served simply and was followed by child shennanigans that made me decide to have them do piano practise. I settled them down with that and then deposited them to bed. My delightful teen babysitter arrived and I took off back to dance on my own account. Hip Hopped and Tappidy Tapped and then came home to do some more work. It is now midnight. All I have to say is I think I am too tired to think.
I would like a holiday...who's in?
Today, the munchkins that inhabit the realms of the imaginary world that exisits within the wall of my house were off school. Today was a day when they could sleep in and play. However, since they could sleep in...apparently this was all the knowledge that they needed and they opted to get up and get cracking. I also wound up with two "not my kids my kids" to help out those who still had to go to work. Schools don't think about daycare when they decide that teachers need a break.
This morning was also eventful in that it snowed. Invariably, people seem to panic and forget everything they know about winter driving over the summer. They get used to being able to stop on a dime. Tires are supposed to grip and hug those corners didn't you know. I heard that people took anywhere from 1.5 hours to 3.5 hours to get to work. Being sensible, of course I decided to take them all to the YMCA.
The YMCA turned out Ok in the end (had to deal with a few policy glitches etc long suffering sigh here). We were in the pool for over 1.5 hours and had even more time on the play structures. I was already tired by the time we got home at 1. Next up was lunch and then I settled in to do some work...with the interruptions of the inside/outside/inside game, snacks and fluid breaks. The I/O/I game is where they can't agree on an inside game so the crew bundle up in all their winter gear and go outside for about 10 minutes before deciding that it is too cold and come in. There were forgotten mittens and doors opening and closing all the time. Once it was over, we had a cat with a queen game, school teacher games and zhu zhu pet games.
It suddenly dawned on me that I had to get the girls ready to go around 3 in the afternoon. There was yet another mad scramble for shoes and mittens; coats and hats. One child was picked up by an equally busy mom, one child was delivered home, one was delivered to a pool and another to dance. One was picked up from the pool and delivered to dance while one was met at dance and told to chill out. Then, since the case of the missing tap shoe bag is still unsolved, it was off to buy tap shoes. Got those and returned to home base for dinner at 7.
Dinner was served simply and was followed by child shennanigans that made me decide to have them do piano practise. I settled them down with that and then deposited them to bed. My delightful teen babysitter arrived and I took off back to dance on my own account. Hip Hopped and Tappidy Tapped and then came home to do some more work. It is now midnight. All I have to say is I think I am too tired to think.
I would like a holiday...who's in?
Monday, November 7, 2011
Hooliganting: The Art of Losing Things: Part Two
Hooliganting: The Art of Losing Things: Part Two: Warning label: This may or may not be a rant. I don't know yet. The haze of a justifiable parental lecture is still simmering at an above av...
The Art of Losing Things: Part Two
Warning label: This may or may not be a rant. I don't know yet. The haze of a justifiable parental lecture is still simmering at an above average temperature in the temporal regions of my self. I am indulging in the silence of the house as it sleeps around me. And...I find my thoughts whirling around the contents of today.
First, I discovered that once again, my credit card had decided to abandon ship somewhere along the route that is my life. I do have an oversized purse that over the course of the day contains my lunch, purse, keys, books, work papers and disk drives, kids paraphanalia and those plastic thingamys that you really shouldn't lose. Except I lost it. I don't even have any idea where I lost it so that meant a call to the bank to cancel it and reorder. Sounds simple? It wasn't. I spend 35 minutes on hold, transferred phones and walked to and from a bus stop while dealing with it. Irritating but not earth shattering.
But HOW did I lose it? I have been very good about putting it in the same spot. It goes into a purse that has a clasp that actually latches. So, if it was there the last time I looked for it. WHY is it not there now? No one knows. I have a house full of I don't know, not me and what?
If that were all that this family of mine lost today...I would be less disgruntled. However, I went to get their dance stuff ready for the week only to discover that in addition to losing a Triple Flip outfit three weeks or so ago, they have now between them, managed to lose their entire dance bag. That bag had dance wear, two pairs of tap shoes and goodness knows what else. Probably PJ's, homework and ripped tights. So, still not overly concerned, I drove down to the studio to look for it. The bag is nowhere to be found. Checked with security who know nothing about it. Checked the house a million times (OK four but it felt like a million). Phoned my friends who now think I am completely mad.
Again, the question is HOW did they lose it? It must be an art. They happen to leave things right where people think that a miracle has happened and that the finders simply have to keep their stuff. They have created the black hole of "I must have new shoes at any cost". Perhaps they have a secret teleporter and their clothes go into a galaxy far far away. Oh and don't get me started on those asinine creatures of the dryer. Dryer Gremlins: I want my socks back. All the single socks that you have pinched over the weekend. I would appreciate one matching pair.
enchanteddollartistsconference.org
Result: I found tap shoes in the bag of too big shoes that will have to do, they will wear older clothes, they will pay for any replacements out of birthday money and I intend to attack the gremlins with a baseball bat and screw driver. That in itself is art.
And lastly Google Sock Gremlin...I was surprised at how infested our homes are!
First, I discovered that once again, my credit card had decided to abandon ship somewhere along the route that is my life. I do have an oversized purse that over the course of the day contains my lunch, purse, keys, books, work papers and disk drives, kids paraphanalia and those plastic thingamys that you really shouldn't lose. Except I lost it. I don't even have any idea where I lost it so that meant a call to the bank to cancel it and reorder. Sounds simple? It wasn't. I spend 35 minutes on hold, transferred phones and walked to and from a bus stop while dealing with it. Irritating but not earth shattering.
But HOW did I lose it? I have been very good about putting it in the same spot. It goes into a purse that has a clasp that actually latches. So, if it was there the last time I looked for it. WHY is it not there now? No one knows. I have a house full of I don't know, not me and what?
If that were all that this family of mine lost today...I would be less disgruntled. However, I went to get their dance stuff ready for the week only to discover that in addition to losing a Triple Flip outfit three weeks or so ago, they have now between them, managed to lose their entire dance bag. That bag had dance wear, two pairs of tap shoes and goodness knows what else. Probably PJ's, homework and ripped tights. So, still not overly concerned, I drove down to the studio to look for it. The bag is nowhere to be found. Checked with security who know nothing about it. Checked the house a million times (OK four but it felt like a million). Phoned my friends who now think I am completely mad.
Again, the question is HOW did they lose it? It must be an art. They happen to leave things right where people think that a miracle has happened and that the finders simply have to keep their stuff. They have created the black hole of "I must have new shoes at any cost". Perhaps they have a secret teleporter and their clothes go into a galaxy far far away. Oh and don't get me started on those asinine creatures of the dryer. Dryer Gremlins: I want my socks back. All the single socks that you have pinched over the weekend. I would appreciate one matching pair.
enchanteddollartistsconference.orgResult: I found tap shoes in the bag of too big shoes that will have to do, they will wear older clothes, they will pay for any replacements out of birthday money and I intend to attack the gremlins with a baseball bat and screw driver. That in itself is art.
And lastly Google Sock Gremlin...I was surprised at how infested our homes are!