It's always difficult to manage all the creatures, kids, work, and household chores by myself when my husband is out of town. Today was one of those days where I had to "keep all the plates spinning." It's even more difficult when I don't feel good, and when I'm extremely tired. Today was one of those days as well.
Apparently my fatigue was affecting my personality. "Mommy, you're grouchy!' my son informed me. (This was after a rather legnthy whine session where my son complained that I didn't take him to the natural history museum.)
"Yeah, well you're grouchy too," I retorted.
Then my daughter came home complaining how she hurt her foot in gym class. I didn't offer much sympathy.
"Mommy, why are you so grouchy?" she asked.
The rest of the day continued much the same way. Finally, at the end of the day, as I was reading a bedtime story to my son, my daughter came up and taped a sign to my back. It read:
"Caution, stay back 500 feet. Grumpy Mama!"
Wouldn't that make a great T-shirt?
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
Dog Slop
I don't know who's worse - the dog or my kids. I was upstairs trying to fold some laundry when suddenly I hear the pounding of feet and an awful lot of screaming.
I ran downstairs to see what the heck was going on. My son had let the dog in and the dog was absolutely filthy. He smelled like he may have even romped in some of his business. Anyway, the kids didn't have control of the beast, and he bolted through the dining room and jumped on my sofa, leaving a trail of brown goop everywhere.
I quickly grabbed the dog's leash and got him under control. (At least the animal listens to me!) I put him in his crate. I cleaned up the mess, and all was well.
Then my son decided that he wanted to go outside.
"Mommy, can you help me put on my shoes?"
As I helped him, he put his hand over to the dog and let the dog lick it. Then do you know what that boy did? He wiped his slobbery hand on my head and got dog slop all over my hair!
What did I do to deserve this?
I ran downstairs to see what the heck was going on. My son had let the dog in and the dog was absolutely filthy. He smelled like he may have even romped in some of his business. Anyway, the kids didn't have control of the beast, and he bolted through the dining room and jumped on my sofa, leaving a trail of brown goop everywhere.
I quickly grabbed the dog's leash and got him under control. (At least the animal listens to me!) I put him in his crate. I cleaned up the mess, and all was well.
Then my son decided that he wanted to go outside.
"Mommy, can you help me put on my shoes?"
As I helped him, he put his hand over to the dog and let the dog lick it. Then do you know what that boy did? He wiped his slobbery hand on my head and got dog slop all over my hair!
What did I do to deserve this?
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Gem Hunters
My kids have recently become interested in rocks and gems. My six-year-old son received a comprehensive rock guide book for Christmas, which he has read from cover to cover. He is becoming quite the expert in rocks.
Today my kids went outside to dig up some rocks. They were on a mission to find valuable gems. I'm not so sure there are any valuable gems to be found in the clay of Cincinnati, but they thought they'd give it a try.
A half hour later, my son came running into the house, very excited.
"Mom, I found some pyrite!" (Fools gold for anyone who isn't familiar with pyrite.)
"Hmmm," I said. "I don't think pyrite is found in these parts. Let me take a look."
My little guy handed over a huge chunk of rock. It was a muddy mess.
"Dude, this is shale, and it's covered with mud."
"Is it valuable?"
"No."
"Is it rare?"
"No."
"Then I'll go out and try to find a diamond."
Two hours later, he still had not found a diamond, but he did find a piece of granite. He was quite pleased.
Today my kids went outside to dig up some rocks. They were on a mission to find valuable gems. I'm not so sure there are any valuable gems to be found in the clay of Cincinnati, but they thought they'd give it a try.
A half hour later, my son came running into the house, very excited.
"Mom, I found some pyrite!" (Fools gold for anyone who isn't familiar with pyrite.)
"Hmmm," I said. "I don't think pyrite is found in these parts. Let me take a look."
My little guy handed over a huge chunk of rock. It was a muddy mess.
"Dude, this is shale, and it's covered with mud."
"Is it valuable?"
"No."
"Is it rare?"
"No."
"Then I'll go out and try to find a diamond."
Two hours later, he still had not found a diamond, but he did find a piece of granite. He was quite pleased.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Hissing Cockroaches
My six-year-old son likes strange and bizarre creatures. Eyeless fish, jumping spiders, and vampire squids are some of his favorites. Today, at the natural history museum, he met some other strange creatures: Madagascar hissing cockroaches. They were crawling around in a rubbermaid container as a scientist shared information about them.
Naturally my little guy had to scoop one of those big bugs up. He held it in his little hand.
"Mommy, she likes me!" he exclaimed.
"How do you know it's a 'she?'" I asked.
"She's gentle, and she doesn't have horns."
The scientist looked at him, completely amazed that he knew that. "Why, yes, that's correct!" she said. "How did you know that?"
"Um, I don't know. Maybe I learned it in school somewhere. Can I take her home?"
The scientist looked at me. "Absolutely not," I said. "We have enough creatures to care for!"
My son put the cockroach back. "Okay. Maybe for my birthday."
Keep dreaming, kid!
Naturally my little guy had to scoop one of those big bugs up. He held it in his little hand.
"Mommy, she likes me!" he exclaimed.
"How do you know it's a 'she?'" I asked.
"She's gentle, and she doesn't have horns."
The scientist looked at him, completely amazed that he knew that. "Why, yes, that's correct!" she said. "How did you know that?"
"Um, I don't know. Maybe I learned it in school somewhere. Can I take her home?"
The scientist looked at me. "Absolutely not," I said. "We have enough creatures to care for!"
My son put the cockroach back. "Okay. Maybe for my birthday."
Keep dreaming, kid!
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Doggone Dog!
We have a five-month-old German Shepherd. That dog sure knows how to cause trouble! This evening, my son went upstairs to take his bath. My husband decided to let the dog sit next to him in his office. The dog lay down next to the desk and pretended to be a good dog. (Yes - he pretends. I know this, because I've seen him in action many times.)
My husband busied himself on the computer, sure that the dog was going to remain mellow. Boy, was he wrong! Suddenly that passive pooch bolted out the door, ran around the house at breakneck speed and ran up the stairs, where he heard my son splashing in the bathtub. Do you know what that dog did next? He charged into the bathroom and jumped into the bathtub with my son!
It sounded like somebody did a cannonball jump into a pool. My son screamed. Water splashed everywhere. Then that rotten dog wouldn't get out. Do you know what it's like trying to haul a sixty pound wet beast out of a tub?
We finally got the dog out of the tub. The beast ran into the hall and shook himself. Water went flying everywhere. Then he charged down the stairs, somersaulting down the last few, crashing into the front door. He slipped as he tried to run down the hall to his crate. Finally, he made it to his crate. Running at high speed, he smashed into the back of it, causing the crate to slide across the kitchen floor.
Then he lay down, gave us one of his cute puppy looks, and promptly fell asleep.
My husband busied himself on the computer, sure that the dog was going to remain mellow. Boy, was he wrong! Suddenly that passive pooch bolted out the door, ran around the house at breakneck speed and ran up the stairs, where he heard my son splashing in the bathtub. Do you know what that dog did next? He charged into the bathroom and jumped into the bathtub with my son!
It sounded like somebody did a cannonball jump into a pool. My son screamed. Water splashed everywhere. Then that rotten dog wouldn't get out. Do you know what it's like trying to haul a sixty pound wet beast out of a tub?
We finally got the dog out of the tub. The beast ran into the hall and shook himself. Water went flying everywhere. Then he charged down the stairs, somersaulting down the last few, crashing into the front door. He slipped as he tried to run down the hall to his crate. Finally, he made it to his crate. Running at high speed, he smashed into the back of it, causing the crate to slide across the kitchen floor.
Then he lay down, gave us one of his cute puppy looks, and promptly fell asleep.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Groundhog Day
It's Groundhog day - that day when an oversized rodent is plucked from his cozy hole in the ground and made to endure the torments of flashing cameras and news reporters.
"Mommy, how does the groundhog know how long winter will be?" my astute six-year-old son asked.
"He doesn't. It's all media hype and a great excuse for teachers to have kids do art projects involving groundhogs."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Poor groundhog. He had to come up and freeze in all of this snow!"
(Maybe we should get some animal rights activists involved in this case!)
"Mommy, how does the groundhog know how long winter will be?" my astute six-year-old son asked.
"He doesn't. It's all media hype and a great excuse for teachers to have kids do art projects involving groundhogs."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Poor groundhog. He had to come up and freeze in all of this snow!"
(Maybe we should get some animal rights activists involved in this case!)
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Girl Scout Cookies
My daughter is a Girl Scout. In case you haven't already been visited by a Girl Scout selling cookies, here's a new alert: It's Girl Scout Cookie Sales time.
It's always so much fun going door to door in the freezing cold, selling those high-carb delights. My daughter and I have been visiting several neighborhoods in our area, trying to meet her goal of 2000 boxes of cookies. (She wants a lap-top computer. If she gets 2000 boxes sold, she earns the computer.)
"I have to sell 2000 boxes of cookies," she tells the customers.
They always raise an eyebrow when they hear about that lofty goal.
She's up to about 200 boxes. We'll keep on selling, but since I'm the cookie mom for our very large troop, I'm wondering how exactly I'm going to fit 2000 boxes of cookies in my basement (which I will probably have anyway once all the girls submit their orders.).
Anybody want a box of cookies? (Just kidding!)
It's always so much fun going door to door in the freezing cold, selling those high-carb delights. My daughter and I have been visiting several neighborhoods in our area, trying to meet her goal of 2000 boxes of cookies. (She wants a lap-top computer. If she gets 2000 boxes sold, she earns the computer.)
"I have to sell 2000 boxes of cookies," she tells the customers.
They always raise an eyebrow when they hear about that lofty goal.
She's up to about 200 boxes. We'll keep on selling, but since I'm the cookie mom for our very large troop, I'm wondering how exactly I'm going to fit 2000 boxes of cookies in my basement (which I will probably have anyway once all the girls submit their orders.).
Anybody want a box of cookies? (Just kidding!)
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