Dear Neighborhood Punk Posse,
I remember a time in my life during which, when with a group of friends, someone might have gotten the bright idea that it would be really funny to go ring peoples' doorbells and run.
Tonight someone decided it would be hy-sterical to ring our doorbell a couple of times around 10 p.m. There is a long list of reasons why this isn't really all that entertaining to me these days. The least of these reasons is not that it wakes small children. You can add to the list that I wasn't really looking for an adrenaline rush this evening.
It's funny how "funny" changes so dramatically over the course of 15 or 20 years. It's probably unrealistic to think that neither of my children will ever, on a warm spring night, decide to engage in a similar activity but I will remind them someday of how funny our family didn't find this tonight.
I actually don't know anyone over the age of 15 who would find this activity entertaining and that probably includes the local police department. While I'm certain they have a number of more important things to do and what you did probably doesn't break a single law, I'm also sure that if there's a power-hungry police officer in the vicinity, he would be happy to drive around shining his little light in our local roundabouts.
I'm getting old and grumpy and I've called them to report lesser offenses in the last year. I'm sure you can run really fast and you're probably pretty good at hiding in your neighbors' landscaping. But, just for fun, if you ring my doorbell after dark again for no good reason, I think I'll give them a call and see if you enjoy a good adrenaline rush as much as you probably think you would.
Sincerely,
The Old Hag
p.s. If you're the same kids who thought it would also be funny to rifle through the cars parked in the driveway last week, I hope you're enjoying your iPod transmitter and next time, please take the Jeep.
May 17, 2008
PSA
I'm one of those suckers in the grocery store checkout who is enticed to purchase new flavors of chewing gum. You know, Strawberry Kiwi!, Polar Burst!, Cinnamint!
The boys and I just returned from Wal-Mart and I think I owe it to the internet to alert you to the following: Orbit Sangria Fresca!, does not taste like Sangria or Fresca.
As you were.
The boys and I just returned from Wal-Mart and I think I owe it to the internet to alert you to the following: Orbit Sangria Fresca!, does not taste like Sangria or Fresca.
As you were.
May 15, 2008
Negotiations
Grandpa and Grandma returned from their world travels yesterday. Our boys, as well as us, were delighted to see them today when they dropped by for a late-afternoon visit. While they would have been happy to see them regardless, they were especially interested in opening the gifts that they brought.
Andrew received a chess set that he loves, as he fancies himself a regular Bobby Fischer these days. It's a beautiful wood and leather travel set and the game pieces are Chinese emperors, queens, etc. He met Mark at the door when he arrived home from work asking for a chess match to be placed on the calendar for after dinner. They're currently sitting next to me and playing a game. Andrew is regaling us with his game knowledge and reminding us of how these pieces look different than the game pieces on our old set which he has informed Mark can be his now. (Funny, I think Mark thought it was his already since it has belonged to him for years...) Apparently the queen on this set has a "pointy, slanty, pointy hat."
Thomas received a panda bear puppet. (Wyatt, look away, I think you'll be the proud owner of a new panda bear puppet soon as well.) Grandma had photos on her camera to show Thomas of the pandas they saw on a preserve and he immediately took to the new puppet by "getting" us all with it and carrying on a conversation with it in Thomasese. Panda appears to understand T's language as he held up his end of the conversation with enthusiasm.
By the time dinner rolled around it became obvious that panda came with an added-value free gift. He arrived in a small, striped plastic shopping bag and that bag was a fixture on Thomas' arm all evening. He spent the better part of dinner taking panda in and out of that bag, then carrying him around the house as if he was in a kennel. Think Paris Hilton with Tinkerbell on her arm.
We left panda and his bag downstairs during baths, but when Andrew got the chess set out to ready for his game with Mark, T remembered that pandas need love too. Panda sat with him while he drank his milk then helped tell daddy goodnight, all from the comfort of his convenient carrying case. Panda then of course joined us for bedtime books, with Thomas clutching him in his bag. When it was time for rocking I suggested that panda go night-night in Thomas' red chair but he had other thoughts. So we rocked, with Thomas holding that red and yellow striped bag over the edge of the chair, crackling and rustling right along with the rhythm of the rocker. I was amused but not concerned because for as cuddly a child as he is, Thomas has never wanted to sleep with anything in his bed except for his beloved blankie.
You saw this coming, but tonight marked a turning point for T. He now has a companion worthy of sleeping in his bed. A plastic bag. He wrestled panda from the bag, put his head on him like he's a pillow, then began shrieking when I wouldn't leave the bag in bed too. We may let our kids eat too much high fructose corn syrup and we let the roughhousing on our bed get a little wild sometimes, but come on people, I do have limits. Bedding down with a non-pourous, crackly, handled plastic bag from a foreign country pushes even my boundaries.
Thomas has an ear infection and the accompanying diaper rash from the prescribed antibiotics so his mood is a little tenuous. Add to that his fervent desire to assert his "two-ness," and what followed was a showdown. We negotiated as best we could while he was screaming, and I felt like screaming, and in the end agreed that panda would sleep in the rocker. In his bag.
If anyone's looking for a very stylish, waterproof handbag, give me a call. I've got one I'm looking to unload.
Welcome home PaRon and Grandma.
Andrew received a chess set that he loves, as he fancies himself a regular Bobby Fischer these days. It's a beautiful wood and leather travel set and the game pieces are Chinese emperors, queens, etc. He met Mark at the door when he arrived home from work asking for a chess match to be placed on the calendar for after dinner. They're currently sitting next to me and playing a game. Andrew is regaling us with his game knowledge and reminding us of how these pieces look different than the game pieces on our old set which he has informed Mark can be his now. (Funny, I think Mark thought it was his already since it has belonged to him for years...) Apparently the queen on this set has a "pointy, slanty, pointy hat."
Thomas received a panda bear puppet. (Wyatt, look away, I think you'll be the proud owner of a new panda bear puppet soon as well.) Grandma had photos on her camera to show Thomas of the pandas they saw on a preserve and he immediately took to the new puppet by "getting" us all with it and carrying on a conversation with it in Thomasese. Panda appears to understand T's language as he held up his end of the conversation with enthusiasm.
By the time dinner rolled around it became obvious that panda came with an added-value free gift. He arrived in a small, striped plastic shopping bag and that bag was a fixture on Thomas' arm all evening. He spent the better part of dinner taking panda in and out of that bag, then carrying him around the house as if he was in a kennel. Think Paris Hilton with Tinkerbell on her arm.
We left panda and his bag downstairs during baths, but when Andrew got the chess set out to ready for his game with Mark, T remembered that pandas need love too. Panda sat with him while he drank his milk then helped tell daddy goodnight, all from the comfort of his convenient carrying case. Panda then of course joined us for bedtime books, with Thomas clutching him in his bag. When it was time for rocking I suggested that panda go night-night in Thomas' red chair but he had other thoughts. So we rocked, with Thomas holding that red and yellow striped bag over the edge of the chair, crackling and rustling right along with the rhythm of the rocker. I was amused but not concerned because for as cuddly a child as he is, Thomas has never wanted to sleep with anything in his bed except for his beloved blankie.
You saw this coming, but tonight marked a turning point for T. He now has a companion worthy of sleeping in his bed. A plastic bag. He wrestled panda from the bag, put his head on him like he's a pillow, then began shrieking when I wouldn't leave the bag in bed too. We may let our kids eat too much high fructose corn syrup and we let the roughhousing on our bed get a little wild sometimes, but come on people, I do have limits. Bedding down with a non-pourous, crackly, handled plastic bag from a foreign country pushes even my boundaries.
Thomas has an ear infection and the accompanying diaper rash from the prescribed antibiotics so his mood is a little tenuous. Add to that his fervent desire to assert his "two-ness," and what followed was a showdown. We negotiated as best we could while he was screaming, and I felt like screaming, and in the end agreed that panda would sleep in the rocker. In his bag.
If anyone's looking for a very stylish, waterproof handbag, give me a call. I've got one I'm looking to unload.
Welcome home PaRon and Grandma.
May 6, 2008
Out of the mouth of ADH
Four-year-olds are funny guys. Just take ours for example...
* When told thank you for bringing me a dandelion, "It's my pleasure, mommy."
* When offering Thomas the last of the old ice cream treats while he opens a new bag for himself, "Congratulations, Thomas. It's your lucky day, you get the very last of the very old ice cream."
* different = drifferent
* will not = willn't
* interesting = innersting
* ridiculous = rediclious
* When watching me put on a dress to go to work this morning, "Mommy, you should wear shorts to work." I explained that I couldn't because it wasn't professional. His response, "Would you like for me to call Judy and tell her that you want to wear shorts? I can convince her for you."
* While talking about Mother's Day coming on Sunday, "Mommy, Daddy and I don't have a plan for you, but don't worry, I'm making you some junk at school."
* When told thank you for bringing me a dandelion, "It's my pleasure, mommy."
* When offering Thomas the last of the old ice cream treats while he opens a new bag for himself, "Congratulations, Thomas. It's your lucky day, you get the very last of the very old ice cream."
* different = drifferent
* will not = willn't
* interesting = innersting
* ridiculous = rediclious
* When watching me put on a dress to go to work this morning, "Mommy, you should wear shorts to work." I explained that I couldn't because it wasn't professional. His response, "Would you like for me to call Judy and tell her that you want to wear shorts? I can convince her for you."
* While talking about Mother's Day coming on Sunday, "Mommy, Daddy and I don't have a plan for you, but don't worry, I'm making you some junk at school."
May 2, 2008
Let us be an example
We had a parenting first last night and I think it's safe to say we've learned a thing or two from the experience.
We woke up at 1 a.m. today to the beginnings of a terrible storm. The house was creaking, lightning was flashing and our electricity was flashing as well. With each flash of the power the carbon monoxide detector would beep and our cordless phone was paging itself. It was kind of a sensory overload after a few hours of deep sleep. (The ironic thing is that the page function on that phone wouldn't work last week when I was actually looking for it.)
After three flashes of the power, Thomas was up and terrified. As I started upstairs to check on him the electricity went out for good so I was now traversing the stairs in the pitch dark. Wow. Our house is really dark without any lights. By the time I got upstairs my Kansas-girl-instincts were saying, "get ye and your offspring to a basement and go now."
Mark apparently has Kansas-girl weather instincts as well because I met him halfway down the stairs as he headed up to get Andrew. This marks the first time we have dragged our kids out of bed in the middle of the night to head to safety during a storm. We've debated it a time or two but have avoided it all costs.
Picture the scene...
We're headed to the basement with two scared children, the house sounds like it's coming down, the thunder and lightning are constant and it's very, very dark. Quick! Someone grab the flashlight. Where's the flashlight? OMG! We must have a flashlight somewhere. A functioning flashlight is eventually located by using the butane flame thrower for the grill to light the way to the basement. (Note to self: Keep a flashlight on each level of the house and make sure it's in working order.)
We get me and the boys settled on a couch and then remember that without electricity it's pretty difficult to watch television for an update on what's happening outside. It's getting louder and seems as if we might have reason to be concerned, but we don't know for sure because it's at this point we realize WE HAVE NO BATTERY POWERED RADIOS in the house. (Note to self: Buy a battery powered radio.)
Mark runs up and gets a pair of shoes for each of us and my cell phone, on which we can at least pull up the Weather Channel website enough to see that yes, indeed, Douglas County, KS is under a tornado warning for the next 40 minutes. That's all we know, but it's enough. Looks like we're staying put.
We're now using my cell phone and one weakly-powered flashlight to entertain the kids and to take our collective mind off the fact that we're under a tornado warning but we don't know where the storm is and we don't have anyway to find out, short of one of us going to sit in the car to listen to the radio, which doesn't seem like a safe idea.
Eventually the worst of the storm passes and we're left with regular old May thunderstorms, but still no electricity. Now what to do? The boys weren't very keen on the idea of going back to bed without their myriad lights and acoutrements up and running so we began the process of everyone going to sleep in the basement on the couches. We finally get Andrew to STOP TALKING and Thomas begins to snore. In addition to being very dark in the house without power, it's also very quiet. No hum from anything. Weird. All you can hear is the occassional thunder and rain hitting the windows. It's deathly quiet and then Mark remembers. No power means no sump pump. That's why it's so quiet.
Mark gets up to check on the status of the sump pump pit (is there a more technical term for this?) in the storage room, which of course wakes Thomas and starts Andrew talking. He comes back and reports that we need a bucket because if it keeps raining there's going to be water bailing in our immediate future. Fabulous. (Note to self: investigate the cost of a battery backup for our sump pump.) We sat quietly for a few minutes during which time I think it's safe to assume that Mark and I were both offering up small prayers and making deals that we'll try to live up to in the coming weeks.
And then, ta da! Power! The lovely noise of the sump pump kicking on and the computer firing up! It was sweeter music to my ears than the performance we had seen at the Lied Center earlier in our evening.
We double-checked that the worst was over then took the boys back up to bed. At 3:45 a.m. we were back in our bed and having a little conversation about how since we're both college-educated, longtime Kansas residents, there's very little excuse for the fact that we put ourselves in a RIDICULOUS situation of not knowing where to find a flashlight and having no plan for no electricity. We be so smart. If we can't set a good example, let us at least be a warning to you, our readers!
Today we're the proud owners of a new flashlight, weather radio and battery-powered cell phone charger. Battery backups for sump pumps are expensive so we haven't purchased but are in discussions. We only spent $40 total but we probably would have paid three times that just to feel like we had redeemed ourselves!
As I write, Mark and Andrew are out repairing our fence. The wind took it down along the entire north side of the yard, breaking the posts off even with the ground. Mark is going to have more help than he needs digging out the old posts, which are set in concrete approximately 11-gillion feet down into the ground, and setting new posts today. Andrew is prattling on about the "80 mile for an hour" winds and we've all learned some important lessons.
We woke up at 1 a.m. today to the beginnings of a terrible storm. The house was creaking, lightning was flashing and our electricity was flashing as well. With each flash of the power the carbon monoxide detector would beep and our cordless phone was paging itself. It was kind of a sensory overload after a few hours of deep sleep. (The ironic thing is that the page function on that phone wouldn't work last week when I was actually looking for it.)
After three flashes of the power, Thomas was up and terrified. As I started upstairs to check on him the electricity went out for good so I was now traversing the stairs in the pitch dark. Wow. Our house is really dark without any lights. By the time I got upstairs my Kansas-girl-instincts were saying, "get ye and your offspring to a basement and go now."
Mark apparently has Kansas-girl weather instincts as well because I met him halfway down the stairs as he headed up to get Andrew. This marks the first time we have dragged our kids out of bed in the middle of the night to head to safety during a storm. We've debated it a time or two but have avoided it all costs.
Picture the scene...
We're headed to the basement with two scared children, the house sounds like it's coming down, the thunder and lightning are constant and it's very, very dark. Quick! Someone grab the flashlight. Where's the flashlight? OMG! We must have a flashlight somewhere. A functioning flashlight is eventually located by using the butane flame thrower for the grill to light the way to the basement. (Note to self: Keep a flashlight on each level of the house and make sure it's in working order.)
We get me and the boys settled on a couch and then remember that without electricity it's pretty difficult to watch television for an update on what's happening outside. It's getting louder and seems as if we might have reason to be concerned, but we don't know for sure because it's at this point we realize WE HAVE NO BATTERY POWERED RADIOS in the house. (Note to self: Buy a battery powered radio.)
Mark runs up and gets a pair of shoes for each of us and my cell phone, on which we can at least pull up the Weather Channel website enough to see that yes, indeed, Douglas County, KS is under a tornado warning for the next 40 minutes. That's all we know, but it's enough. Looks like we're staying put.
We're now using my cell phone and one weakly-powered flashlight to entertain the kids and to take our collective mind off the fact that we're under a tornado warning but we don't know where the storm is and we don't have anyway to find out, short of one of us going to sit in the car to listen to the radio, which doesn't seem like a safe idea.
Eventually the worst of the storm passes and we're left with regular old May thunderstorms, but still no electricity. Now what to do? The boys weren't very keen on the idea of going back to bed without their myriad lights and acoutrements up and running so we began the process of everyone going to sleep in the basement on the couches. We finally get Andrew to STOP TALKING and Thomas begins to snore. In addition to being very dark in the house without power, it's also very quiet. No hum from anything. Weird. All you can hear is the occassional thunder and rain hitting the windows. It's deathly quiet and then Mark remembers. No power means no sump pump. That's why it's so quiet.
Mark gets up to check on the status of the sump pump pit (is there a more technical term for this?) in the storage room, which of course wakes Thomas and starts Andrew talking. He comes back and reports that we need a bucket because if it keeps raining there's going to be water bailing in our immediate future. Fabulous. (Note to self: investigate the cost of a battery backup for our sump pump.) We sat quietly for a few minutes during which time I think it's safe to assume that Mark and I were both offering up small prayers and making deals that we'll try to live up to in the coming weeks.
And then, ta da! Power! The lovely noise of the sump pump kicking on and the computer firing up! It was sweeter music to my ears than the performance we had seen at the Lied Center earlier in our evening.
We double-checked that the worst was over then took the boys back up to bed. At 3:45 a.m. we were back in our bed and having a little conversation about how since we're both college-educated, longtime Kansas residents, there's very little excuse for the fact that we put ourselves in a RIDICULOUS situation of not knowing where to find a flashlight and having no plan for no electricity. We be so smart. If we can't set a good example, let us at least be a warning to you, our readers!
Today we're the proud owners of a new flashlight, weather radio and battery-powered cell phone charger. Battery backups for sump pumps are expensive so we haven't purchased but are in discussions. We only spent $40 total but we probably would have paid three times that just to feel like we had redeemed ourselves!
As I write, Mark and Andrew are out repairing our fence. The wind took it down along the entire north side of the yard, breaking the posts off even with the ground. Mark is going to have more help than he needs digging out the old posts, which are set in concrete approximately 11-gillion feet down into the ground, and setting new posts today. Andrew is prattling on about the "80 mile for an hour" winds and we've all learned some important lessons.
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