The kid is blog gold. Gold, I tell ya!

A, for all his challenges, is one helluva kid. He’s developing a sense of humor (let it be known that his first accurate pun was on Christmas Day 2008) and really has no shame. He is seven years old, ya know. One of his very best friends is our pastor’s son. As the two of them have the exact same initials, he’ll be known here as A2.

Now, I have to explain about me and churchy things. I did not grow up in a church and only started going, somewhat reluctantly, when Tom and I married. ‘Twas important to him, so I went. And have continued going. I enjoy it, I get to play music there, it’s a community that Tom and I appreciate, especially with our family so far away. But I’ve never felt totally comfortable, feeling more like an impostor than anything. So it’s unusual to me to have a pastor about my age, with a son my son’s age, who is a “regular person.” I seem to think they should always be older, with white hair, and that I should hold them in the highest regard, but I digress. A and A2 are great buddies, have a lot in common including food allergies, and so Tom and I have gotten to know the pastor and his wife fairly well.

Yesterday A was invited over to A2′s house for the afternoon. I had an appointment in Boulder at 4, they were having dinner a block away at 5, so they brought A with them and I grabbed A and took him home. A2′s mom relayed a conversation they had in the car on the way.

A2: (mumble, mumble, ladder)

A2′s mom: A2, did you just say bladder?

A2: no, mom, I said ladder

A: yeah, bladder is the thing that’s connect to your wiener and nuts.

Right there, in the car, with the pastor and his wife.

I can’t make this stuff up.

Do something. Anything.

I am the living, breathing example of Newton’s First Law of Motion. Getting moving and getting stuff done is nearly impossible some days, and nearly impossible to stop other days. If I have an early appointment, I go all day and accomplish much on the mental to-do list. If I have a late appointment, or nothing scheduled, it is exactly the opposite.

Guess which kind of day I’m having?

I scheduled a late afternoon acupuncture appointment for today, thinking that would be easiest on my family. Tom is working and I planned to set the boys up with a movie or something. I really should have made it an early appointment/movie for the boys. I seem to be physically unable to get it in gear today. There’s certainly plenty to do; being gone for 2 weeks will do that.

But there’s so much to to and all of it needs to be done rightnow. And so I am paralyzed. Do I call and set up appointments first? Or do I try to get my computer fixed first? OY! That’s going to be another cost…and my flute is in the shop right now and that’s gonna cost too (I should call and check on it). Should I write a post for this blog, or get my butt in gear and get something posted at the Rocky Mountain Moms Blog? (Note: needs to be done ASAP). Do I try to get XMAS cards addressed? (Yes, I know…maybe for Groundhog Day). Or do I apply the purchases I made from Uppercase Living before my New Year’s party on Wednesday? Ay yi yi…I need to get the house cleaned up before that party. Should I try to get the tree and decorations put away? That needs to be done before Tom leaves (but we got the lights down at lunch…good thing, too, we’re under a high wind warning). It appears my desk vomited while I was gone; where did all these papers come from? And do I cull the boys clothes first (thankseversomuch for having yet another growth spurt so soon after the last one) or find a place for their XMAS gifts? When should I start making up the food for the party? And that budget has been waiting for me for finish it for weeks. I need to put together a “hey people, these are the guidelines for box top collection!” poster for the free money program at the school, but I need my scrap room to do that, and it appears to have been hit by a craft missile.

And, and, and.

And so I sit, paralyzed by choices, reading blogs, answering emails, farting around in general. I need to leave in 45 minutes. Spinning the wheel of paralysis….sigh…I’ll call to get my computer fixed. It’s in bad shape, and my modem/router keep jacking with me too.

And next time the appointment gets made in the morning.

Vacation is over, kittens

As soon as I finish this and head up to bed, my “vacation” will be officially over. Done. Fin. For the last two weeks I’ve had my husband around, family around, backup with the boys.

It’s over.

School is out for another week, Tom heads back into the upstairs office in the early a.m., and I believe my darling husband may have shared his cold with me. I’ll know for sure in the morning; I’m fighting it pretty hard. To make it even better, Tom leaves soon for the “oh holy hell mother of all business trips,” followed by several more of a shorter length. We’ll be ships passing in the night until mid-February.

See why I bought two cases of Two Buck Chuck when I was in Chicago?

Le sigh…’twas good while it lasted.

There’s no place like home

Day-um, it’s good to be home. We left Iowa at 5:30 this morning and got back home at 5:30 tonight. With gaining an hour, ’twas a 13 hour trip, the fastest we’ve ever made that drive since having kids. Having the “boy cave” in the very back of the MomVan and me driving 85 through Nebraska did wonders for getting us home quickly.

And tonight I get to sleep in my own bed. My own, long enough for my legs, hello-lover-electric-blanket, soft bed. Firm, yet yielding, like a good lover. The mere thought makes me gasp with delight and anticipation.

I want nothing more tonight.

Giggity.

Merry Christmakwanzaakah

And a Happy Winter Solstice too.

Have a blessed day, in your own way.

Stay warm, stay sane, and have a great day.

I’m dreaming…of a soft…mattress…

endswith8741 dropped me an email to inquire “where the arctic tundra are you!?” Valid question. Arctic tundra indeed: we’re in northern Iowa. Very rural Iowa. I’m actually quite surprised I haven’t been blog-outed yet by one of my sons. Then again, we’re here for two more days and who knows what might yet happen.

We made it through our interstate trip, traveling between two nasty storms to hit the area. And if we’re lucky we’ll have clear sailing when we leave on Friday. Because we’re leaving on Friday.

I miss my dog.

I miss my coffeepot and the way Tom makes coffee.

I miss my electric blankie.

But, most of all, I miss my bed.

It’s not the greatest bed. It’s the third mattress in our 12 year marriage. Apparently we’re hard on sleeping apparatus (apparati? Is there a plural?). It has two deep, person-shaped divots; amazingly enough, Tom’s is on his side of the bed. He usually takes his half of the bed from the middle, so for his sleep hole to actually be on the other half is…inaccurate. But it’s our bed. And it’s comfy, unlike the mattresses we’ve been sleeping on for the last 10 days. My parents have a futon for us: soft but short. Tom’s parents have the bed he slept in when he grew up in: short and akin to sleeping on woven, knotted barbed wire, over a nest of lava rocks and thistles. It’s not terribly comfortable, is what I’m saying. I’ve had one wild crick in my neck for the last two days. It’s no problem, I suppose. Looking to the left is overrated.

And so, on this Christmas Eve, as I celebrate the holiday with Tom’s family at church, I am left to wonder many things, including but not limited to:

  • Did the pastor just do a google search on “bad Christmas Eve sermons” and pick the cheapest one? ‘Cause phoning it in is so awesome.
  • Was it a bother to tune the piano and organ to the same pitch? Was that extra?
  • Can I please have seconds on the Communion wine?

So I exit now to tuck my sons in bed, visions of a Wii dancing in their heads…and I’m girding myself for the screaming onslaught when they realize that Santa left the gifts in Colorado and there’s nothing in Iowa to open. Sidelong glances or no, I may be spiking my coffee in the morning. Sweet Baby Jesus, what were we thinking?

This holiday season, we decided to NOT DIE

We were planning to hop in the MomVan first thing tomorrow and high-tail it to northern Iowa to join Tom’s family for Christmas.

Plans have changed.

If you live in the great frozen north, you know that right now most of Iowa is shut down with a blizzard warning. Wind chills around -35 to -40, blowing and drifting snow, zero visibility. Yeah, not my ideal travel weather, especially with two easily-prone-to-panic children. I’ve done the young and stupid traveling solo with no cell phone in subzero temperatures route, and I’m not terribly keen to repeat the experience.

So we’re staying in Chicago another day.

Either the boys will be so enamored of the presents they got to open tonight and play with them all day, or we will get sick of it all and haul them down to the Museum of Science and Industry for the day. Either way, the boys get one less day with their cousins and they’re sad about that.

Me? I’m just happy to not be taunting death making that drive tomorrow.

My computer is constipated

If you’ve been following me on Twitter or Facebook, you know I’ve having a wee bit of a computer meltdown. Apparently, at some point, my computer downloaded the Complete History of the World Parts I-IXX without informing me. As of this very minute, my main hard drive (the one that houses all the programs and is responsible for running the show) has 2.87 GB free of 60.7 GB and there is a very scary red bar showing just how little space I have available. It’s merely lacking a strobe light and klaxon horn screaming, “YOU’RE OUT OF MEMORY! YOU’RE OUT OF MEMORY! AND YOU’RE ON VACATION! AND HEADING TO IOWA! WHERE, FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER, YOU’LL HAVE WIRELESS INTERNET! IT’S TIME TO PANIC! AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

As you may be able to tell, I am freaking the hell out. A week ago I had somewhere around 10-12 GB free. No idea what happened. I have tried everything I know, am begging for help from friends, and it’s not making a dent.

It’s Christmas, people! My wallet has those little cartoon moths flying above it! I can’t go waltzing into an Apple store tomorrow and get a new computer, as much as I’d lurve to do just that. Princess has to function for at least another year. And then I can get a wicked strong Mac, and as soon as my Verizon contract is over I can get an iPhone, and there will be peace on earth. Or, at least at my desk; I’m leaving an forehead-shaped indentation in the countertop.

So, please, if you can direct me to Computer Repair for Time-Restrained Idiots, I’d be much obliged. I absolutely need this computer to keep functioning during this trip so I don’t go batshit insane. Otherwise, I’ll happily take donations so I can hit the Apple store tomorrow afternoon. Thanks ever so much.

Watch out, it is ON

I think that I shall never see
A watch that is uglier than thee.

Two years ago Tom got a watch for Christmas from our sister in law. It was a generous gift, true heirloom quality…she was so excited and proud to have found it, and at such a low price. She couldn’t wait to gift him with it.

bling watch


Isn’t it lovely? Check out the fine detail on this baby:

bling watch2 bling watch3

We especially love how his name is misspelled. Being an heirloom quality watch, Tom couldn’t part with it for an entire year. Then with great sadness and hope for its future, he lovingly wrapped it up and added it to the pile of white elephant gifts at the annual Christmas party my crazy scrapbooking friends and I have.

There it graced the arm of a friend‘s husband. He totally looked phat, hip, and dy-no-mite!

We thought the story of The Watch was over, that it had a new and loving home.

But it’s not over. No, no no… The story continues.

The watch made its way back home and was discovered last week as I packed for our road trip. It was apparently exhausted and wanted some peace and quiet, for I discovered it in the very back of my closet, on a shelf I never use, behind some stuff I forgot I had.

I suspect my friend might know more than a little about The Watch’s Incredible Journey, as there is also a Traveling Santa I discovered hidden in the back of a different closet after our annual Fireworksapalooza this past July. Santa was only closeted a couple of weeks before he was outed.

Oh, but the watch…I can’t keep the hawtness of the watch all to myself. Its shining glory has been hidden since July as it is.

Watch out. It.Is.On.

Merry Christmas from mom’s little chaos makers

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