Thursday, July 21, 2011

Friendship and Moving

You know those friends that you can not see for months, years even, and still pick up right where you left off?  No judgment, no guilt, just good times rolling? 

Ummm, yeah, can we be those type of friends?  Because as you can see, I have a bit of a habit of falling off the radar.  And while I'll try not to do that, I make no promises.

And here we are.  It's been a bit, yes?  So, how are you doing?

Me?  Oh, well, all is fine here.  And by fine I mean we're moving.  And my dog has cancer.  Again.  But, really, we're fine.

It's actually been really crazy around this joint for the last few weeks.  As I mentioned, we are moving, and to make that a reality we had to take a little trip to find a home.  Because giving the movers an address to take your stuff to is important.  At least that's what they tell me.  So we took a little vacation/house hunting trip to our old neighborhood (in a whole different state, even) to find ourselves a house.

Now, let me tell you that the last time we moved to this particular town (they call it a city, but trust me when I say it's a town), there were plenty of rentals to choose from, and we found a house, packed and moved in a week and a half.  No biggie.  So I pretty much just assumed we would roll in, see a bunch of homes for rent, choose one and move.  Easy peasy.

Not quite how it happened.  Turns out the rental market is quite a bit tighter than when we were there last.  So we came home with nothing.  Zip.  Zero.  Big, fat goose egg.  Nada.  And wouldn't you know it, three new houses hit the rental market the day after we left.  Natch.   But we got one of them, thanks to my wonderful friend who went and saw them for me and made very sure we got the bestest one.  *Sigh*

So, in other news, Noodle lost her first tooth.  There will be a whole post dedicated to that one, complete with pictures and musings on how  I  she could have possibly gotten this old this fast, but we'll go ahead and save that for another day.  Like tomorrow.

And also, Nugget turned two.  Very cute, but yet another reminder that time waits for no one.  Not even cute little mini men that look suspiciously Pillsbury Doughboy-ish.  Or their moms.  Post coming on that one, too!

So, stay tuned for the adventures of Noodles & Nuggets On The Move. 

And what have you been up to in the last few weeks?

Monday, June 27, 2011

Make My Life Easier Monday... Umm, Or Something Like That

Here at Noodles & Nuggets, I am constantly looking for something to make my life easier, run a little smoother.  Because, well, did you see my post about getting pictures taken?  Yeah.  That's pretty much my life.  Always.

So in an effort to help myself my readers find things to make their lives easier, I am making Mondays the day that I will highlight the best "Make It Easier" item I have found in the past seven days.  Well, mostly Mondays, unless I find something so special that I have to share it right that second.  Or unless I'm really lazy one week and have nothing to make your life easier.  Then I'm just sorry, and no help whatsoever.

What I'm really hoping is that in a couple of months I'll have found so many ways to streamline my life that I'll just be one walking commercial for perfect mommy-ness.  Or maybe just perfect person-ness.  Doesn't matter what I call it, it ain't going to happen, people.  But I will try my best.

So to that note, I bring you car organization.  Or at least organization of the millions and billions of toys/papers/cups/crayons/books/stuffed animals/bags/dolls/rocks/flowers and everything else that Noodle and Nugget bring into my car on a daily basis.  Ugh.

Most of the time my car looks like this:

And often, like this:

But today my car looks like this:

Did you notice how you can totally see the floor?  Awesome, right? 

See that thing in between the car seats?  Kind of rectangular, metal handles, reddish in color?  Here, try this angle:

That, friends, is from here on to be known as The Thing That Saved My Car.  It's a box.  Or maybe a basket.  Made of canvas.  With handles.  And a zipper top.  And I love it.

I simply took all of Noodle's and Nugget's junk stuff, threw it in the basket, and put that basket on the seat between them. (Then I vacuumed the floor of the car, and I won't even tell you how long that took or of the ick that I removed from my car that day)  If Noodle wants a book or a movie, it's right there on the seat where she can reach it, rather than down on the floor of the car where she can't reach it but can, and does, step on it each and every time she gets in or out of the car.  If Nugget wants a toy, he still can't really reach it (what with the car seat and all), but he can can screech loudly for a couple minutes until Noodle takes pity on him and reaches it for him.  And best of all, on those days when we have one extra person and someone is forced into the seat between the kid seats, they no longer have to wade through a knee deep pile of stuff to get to the seat.  I just zip up the top of the basket and throw it into the back cargo area, and they can get to their seat with ease. And once they are there they can actually put their feet on the floor.  It's a win/win for everyone involved.  Especially me, who has to clean up all the crap stuff out of the car on a semi weekly basis. 

Just for the record, though, once they are there they still have to find a way to wedge themselves between the car seat and the booster seat.  It's a basket, not a miracle machine.

So, I found this little gem at Target (my most favoritest store in the world).  And the best part is that it was only $10.  I just saved my car and my sanity for $10.  I heart Target.

So is it working?  You best believe it is!  I've had this little system going for 5 days, and my car has next to nothing on the floor.  I'm loving it so much I'm trying to think of other things I can put in one of these things.  Car emergency kit?  Sewing kit for me in all my noncraftyness (probably a bad choice)?  Changes of clothing and sunblock for swim lesson days?

What would you use it for?

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Baby Snooze?

I was thinking this morning about how wonderful the snooze button is, and how much I have missed mine in the last nearly five years.  Granted, that means that I have not used my alarm in the last nearly five years, but that doesn't mean I haven't used AN alarm for the last nearly five years.  Just not the one sitting on my bedside table.

No, my alarm comes in the form of a shrieking child (or two, if I am really lucky) at somewhere between 4:30 and 6:30 each and every morning.  And somehow God, in all his wisdom, forgot to put a snooze button on either one of them.

Which kind of makes me question God's wisdom, I have to be honest.

But aside from questioning, it also makes me wonder what other things God might have left out of the picture that would have better served us had it been included.  Surely the baby snooze button was not the only thing left out of the equation.  Here are some of the things I came up with:

-  Tivo for life.  Or Remote Control for life.  The ultimate Universal Remote.  Think about it... how many times have you been driving down the street and saw something out of the corner of your eye, and thought "Did I really just see that?".  How great would that be if you could somehow go back and see it again?  And don't tell me that is what my memory is for.  My memory is crap and has let me down on numerous occasions and is simply not to be trusted.  Which kind of makes you wonder about the stories I post... 

Oh, and I know that they made a movie about that with Adam Sandler, but I never saw it.  So I don't know if that fits the bill here or not, but it's a good idea, regardless.

-  Auxillary stomachs.  No. seriously.  I hate when I go pay an ungodly amount for amazing food, only to not be able to finish it all.  I don't do leftovers, typically, unless it's pizza.  Or chow mein.  Oh, or pretty much any pasta.  Or chili.  Chili's actually really good the next day.  But really, that's it.  Except cake.  I'll always eat leftover cake.  Duh.  But if I had an extra stomach, I could just keep right on eating AND have the benefit of not being hungry for, like, three days or so.  Come to think of it, that actually would be not only economical, but a time saver.  Are you listening, God?

- A mute button, because wouldn't it be cool if the second you got on the phone the kids didn't pipe up with all manner of chaos?  But they do.  Or at least mine do.  And it would completely rock if instead of spending my phone conversation yelling at them that I am on the phone and to shut the h-e-double-hockey sticks up please be quiet for mama, I could just reach out and poke some lovely button.  They could scream to their hearts content, and I could have my conversation while pretending that I have to most well minded children on the planet.  Although, come to think of it, the application of that particular idea could be bad.  I might have to rethink that one.

But muting your kids when you're on the phone would be awesome.  I'm just saying.

So back to the snooze button on my kids.  I don't have one.  (Do you??)  So that means that rather than pushing snooze, I'm getting up at somewhere between 4:30 and 6:30.  Every.  Day.  Except the days that T takes pity on me and gets up for me.  Which, while lovely and ultra apprectiated, is not quite as often as I would like.

So off we stumble, at least one, sometimes two kids and myself, down the stairs into the cold dark of our house at that awful hour (Cold because I am stingy with the heater.  Dark because, um, did ya notice the time?).  And what do you suppose is the first thing that Nugget will do when we get there?

If you guessed poop you would be half correct, because while working some magic in his diaper he is simultaneously searching for and finding (in the dark) the TV remote.  Which he promptly brings to me and pushes into my hand screeching at the top of his lungs "MEH!" which loosely translates to something along the lines of "Yo Gabba Gabba!" or maybe more accurately "Yo Gabba Gabba NOW!".

What's a girl to do?

Well, this girl turns that Gabba right on and commences making coffee so that she can see straight.

And all of this is to say - Do you suppose that I let my kids watch too much TV?

Friday, June 24, 2011

She's crafty

And by "she" I mean someone that isn't me.  Because I'm not.  Are you?

But the thing is, recently, I want to be.  Don't tell my husband that.  He would cringe and run screaming from the room.  But I do.  I found my sewing machine the other day.  Dug it out of The Garage That Eats Everything, dusted it off, and made this:

Noodle asked me to make it for her.  It's a turtle.  Can you tell?  How about from this angle?

I found this pattern at one of my current favorite blogs, Make It and Love It.  That woman can make anything.  No, seriously, anything.

So I made this cute turtle for Noodle.  Now I have to make one for Nugget, since he keeps taking hers, and then she takes it back, and then much screaming ensues, and then I have to go start drinking hide somewhere so that I don't loose my mind. 

But all in all I am just not the crafty type.  So why is it that I am drawn to all these craft type sites?  Here is a list of some of the ones that I have been visiting of late:

Make It and Love It - We discussed this.  Go take a look.  It's seriously impressive.  Retail quality, right out of her brain.  Well, technically out of her brain by way of her sewing machine.  It's awesome.

Mmmcrafts - I am completely in love with the Baby Bunny doll she made on here.  I also am completely insane for committing to make Noodle one of these for her tooth that is currently loose.  I am so, so in over my head.

Rebecca Danger - I don't knit, but just looking at this site makes me want to learn.  Also, she just had a baby, and I love babies.  So this is an all around good site for me.

Nice Girl Notes - This might not actually qualify as a "craft" site, but it is probably my favorite blog to read right now.  And she does do a lot of craft type stuff in between her very funny, very right on posts.  I love to lurk there... I finally got brave and actually commented on one of her posts.  Maybe someday I'll do it again.

Corina Nielsen Photography - Again, I don't know how much this qualifies as craft, but Corina is one of the most talented photographers I have ever seen.  And the craft part that gets me is the store on her site.  It's chock full of graphic design goodness that I wish I could do.  Amazing, that's what.

There are others, but I have to save something to talk about later, right?  Check these out and let me know what you think.

What sites do you go to for inspiration in the crafty department?  Lay 'em on me, cuz I need all the help I can get!

Thursday, June 23, 2011

There's a monkey in my fridge.

This is what I found when I opened my fridge for milk this morning:

And you thought "Monkey in my fridge" was a euphemism for something, didn't you?

I'll leave you to ponder that one.  Let me know what you come up with...

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Writer's Workshop: My name's Jen, and I'm a compulsive worrier

I'm a lot of things.  Moody comes to mind right off the bat, but I'm also happy (one minute, then I'm not. That's the moody), friendly (ask anyone.  No, really.  Anyone), sore (thanks for that, p90x), hungry (and that), and exhausted (and especially that).  And that's just right now.  Let's talk again in 20 minutes and see what's changed. 

Yes, I'm a lot of things.  But most of all, I'm a worrier.

Pretty much all the time.

I've always been this way.  It's an affliction, and I blame my mother (she's one too).  Just to give you an idea, about eight years ago we had a house we were trying to sell.  Of course when you're trying to sell a house, you can pretty much set your watch by the appliances that die after you get it on the market.  So it was no surprise when the fridge made a truly impressive clonking sound and then simply stopped working. 

What was a surprise was the water that started leaking from the ceiling roughly 36 hours after we installed the new fridge and hooked up the water line. 

You see, roughly 36 hours is how long it takes to step on and crack the water hose that you rigged across the attic Swiss Family Robinson style and have the water slowly leak from the hose, soak the massive layers of insulation, keep trucking right through the sheet rock, and settle in a nice little pocket between something and something else, both of which I couldn't name if I tried because I am not a builder of houses.  But our first indication was 36 hours later, when that first fat drop finally soaked it's way through and landed on my head as I happened to walk beneath.  Upon further investigation we found several fun pockets of water (by shoving a screwdriver through the ceiling several times in several spots.  You can imagine how it looked by the time we were done with it.  Did I mention that it was FOR SALE?!) and several spots in an adjacent wall where water had run ALL THE WAY TO THE FLOOR and warped our baseboards.  Not happy. 

Where was I?  Oh, right.  Worry.

So, did I fix it and forget it?  No.  I spent the rest of our time living there with our house for sale and in escrow pacing the house in the wee hours of the morning, listening for leaks and drips and all manner of flowing water where water should not flow.  And when I did sleep I dreamed that there was water flowing down our walls like good ole Niagara.  If there was a rainstorm, I would rove from window to window checking the drains outside to make sure they were clear so that the coming flood was not making it's way under our door.  Yup, chock full of worry.  That's how I roll.

What did T do while I was doing all this worrying?  He slept.  Because his theory is that it's going to do what it's going to do, and being sleep deprived helps no one.  He's just so frickin' practical like that.

I've really got to learn that lesson.  But in the meantime, if you find yourself unable to sleep at some uncivilized hour of the morning, think of me.  Chances are extremely good that I am awake worrying about something.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Summer creativity for not so creative moms... like me.

It's that time again.  School is out.  Our days are now comprised of the kids staring at me with that expectant look, waiting for me to come up with something fun and exciting for them to do.

All.  Day.  Long.

These are the times I wish I was one of those super creative moms.  The ones that have oodles of craft ideas up their sleeve, ready for the first sign of boredom.  But I'm not.  I'm so, so not that mom.  I'm great at taking the kids to the various parks and fun places around town that we have passes to, but when it comes to coming up with fun things to do at home, I just seem to draw a blank.  That is why when I ran across The Confident Mom and her awesome Summer Survival Calendar, you had best believe that I snatched it up.

This three month calendar has an activity to do every single day.  Did you catch that? EVERY DAY!  I love it.  She has done all the research, and linked to a bajillion different sites all with fun crafts and activities.  It's the perfect jump start my summer days needed.  Now when my poor children turn their expectant eyes my way I can whip that puppy out and pick an activity.  And they will have fun... whether they like it or not!

And in exchange they can think I am the best, most creative mom ever. And I am just going to let them keep thinking that.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

I need a fat fairy...

Or in the absence of that, I need a magic bathing suit that smooths out the leftover pudge from baby having so that I can get in the pool for my Mommy and Me swim class without scaring all the toddlers.  Shallow, yes, but also necessary.  Anyone know of any such contraption? 

Let's be clear here.  I'm not fat.  I would hate to mislead you.  I'm just lumpy in places that I wasn't lumpy before.  That, and I'm on the downward slope of my 30s.  You get the picture. 

Which is why I, and my waistline, would be ever so grateful for bathing suit tips. 


Friday, June 17, 2011

I Kill Plants Wholesale

Well it's not like I try to kill them.  Granted, I guess I don't really try not to, either.  It's just that I think to myself, "Self, you know what this place really needs?  A good plant.  A pretty plant.  A green plant."  So I buy one.  But the tricky thing about plants is that they are kind of living things, and as such require little things like water and food.  Oh, and sunlight.

Don't look at me like that.  I'm just not good with plants, okay?!  Sheesh.

So it's really rather surprising that I am currently growing this:
I know, right?  Did you notice the strawberry?  Right there in the middle, that red thing?  That's a strawberry.

Yes it is. 

Okay, in the interest of full disclosure I should tell you that I didn't start these plants from seeds.  In fact, I took this pic right after I transplanted all those plants from the little containers I bought them in from Lowe's.

Which means that Lowe's actually grew that strawberry, not me.

But that is not the point.  Not. The. Point.

The point is that they are still alive.  See for yourself.

See how they are even bigger?  And there is a new strawberry that I did grow (so there).  And in theory there will eventually be tomatoes, and peppers, and cucumbers, and watermelon (no, seriously, I planted them at the edge so they could grow over the side.).  Oh, and a bean plant.  But I don't know what kind of bean plant, because they sprouted and grew it in Noodle's preschool class, and then unwittingly sent it home to me.  Poor little bean plant.  Or maybe not, because IT'S STILL ALIVE.

But maybe let's not count our salads before they are picked, yes?

What are you trying to keep alive this summer?

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Angels and Cupcakes

Who loves cupcakes?  I do, that's who.  But also Nugget.  As you can see:

When you're almost 2, a mini cupcake of your very own is the best thing ever.  (Who am I kidding?  When you're thirtymumble a mini cupcake of your very own is still the best thing ever.  Except maybe a jumbo cupcake of your very own.  That and an all expense paid trip to Tahiti.)  Oh, and just so you know, 10 minutes later when he still hadn't finished it and I took the dregs away and proceeded to squeegee the goo off him, there was much screaming.  Very, very loud screaming.  Looks angelic, doesn't he?  Don't be fooled.

So this is Nugget at the grand opening of Mili's Sweet's new shop in shop.  Every heard of Mili's Sweets?  Oh, you so need to check her out.  A-mazing cakes and cupcakes.  Seriously.  Amazing.  And I'm not just saying that because she just stuffed me full of Salted Caramel cupcake mini's at the grand opening.  Actually, that is exactly why I'm saying that.  They are so good!  (I haven't told you about T's and my new workout regimen, and how this new cupcake shop will not be helping that, but we'll be talking about that tomorrow.  After I've recovered from my cupcake coma. And possibly completed a workout, but don't count on that part.)

Fun messy-me, or craptastic messy-me?

So I learned something new today.  Which shouldn't be shocking, since I'm supposed to learn something new everyday, right?

But what did I learn?  I learned that it takes a lot of organization and planning to have a fun-messy life, rather than a craptastic-messy life.  Which seems antithetical, I know, but really makes a lot of sense.  Here's the thing: when you are organized there is more room for enjoyment and spontaneity, so the messes of life are fun rather than chaotic.

We had pictures taken today.  And by we I mean the kids, not me, because anyone who is a mom can attest to the fact that they have been assimilated by the borg that is motherhood.  There is no Me, there is Us.  There is no I, there is We.  So we had pictures today.  And I have known that we were having these pictures for the last week and a half, but did I do anything, anything at all to get ready?  No.  No, I kept thinking "Maybe I should go buy the outfits today, so we are ready on Sunday."

But did I?


Today found me running around like a fool, trying to find outfits that coordinated well so it didn't look like my kids had been dressed by a color blind half wit.  Also, trying to find shoes to go with the lovely, well coordinated outfits.  And the whole thing culminated with me throwing several changes of clothing and multiple pairs of shoes in the car, just in case, while dragging a comb through a screaming Noodle's hair and yelling at the top of my lungs at my husband that he most certainly had never tried to get the kids somewhere on time otherwise he would have taken my request to get home sooner seriously.

I apparently left things a little too last minute.  And I have some apologies I need to make.
But when I look back at my life as a parent (actually it when I look back at my life in general, but we don't have to go there), I see that this is how I always roll.  I am the queen of procrastination.  In high school I said that it made me better, because I did well when the pressure was on.  Turns out that in real life I do a pretty crappy job when the pressure is on.  Which is why I need a system.  Or at least a calender, so I can keep track of my crap and not simultaneously destroy my marriage while ripping my child's hair out at the roots.

So, tomorrow, calender.  And maybe a marriage counselor.  And quite possibly therapy for my kids.

But definitely a calender.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Tangled Review... OR.. How To Ruin Your Child On Movies Forever

Yup, this is another catching up post.  Enjoy!

Just going off that title, you might think that we didn't like "Tangled", but you would be mistaken.  It was great.  The story of getting to see the movie is another story.

I took Noodle to see "Tangled" last week, which you might think is a pretty straightforward task.  But maybe not so much for our messy family.  Because, you see, this was Noodle's first experience with a movie theater (which she insists on calling a movie the-A-ter.  Proper, isn't she?)

Good mom that I am, I found a nice late morning showing, got us there with a little time to spare so we could pee (priorities, people) and get situated before the lights went down.  All was fine until I got to the ticket window and the attendant informed me that this particular showing was in 3-D.  Which might have been not only fine but a bonus for another kid, but maybe not so much for Noodle.

Because by the time I wrangled her past the snack counter, into the bathroom, washed the hands, out of the bathroom, past the snack counter one more time, stop to stare in wonder at the gigantic cardboard thingy of Rapunzel and her prince, and into the the-A-ter, it was dark, the previews had started and it was LOUD.

No worries.  I carried her to a seat reasonably far up, got us into actual chairs and got our glasses unwrapped.  Well, got her glasses unwrapped and actually on her, and proceeded to start to unwrap my own glasses.  Had I been paying closer attention I might have noticed poor Noodle ducking and weaving as things came flying off the screen at her.  But I didn't.

Had I noticed that, I might not have been quite so surprised when she screeched "Mommy, the the-A-ter is on FIRE!"

Jamming my own glasses on my face I realized what she was seeing was a campfire that appeared to be in the room rather than on the screen.

Maybe I should have explained a little better, huh?

So, off with the glasses, gather up the popcorn and snacks, pick up a screeching Noodle and make my way back down the stairs and into the lobby.  I tried to explain several times, but there was no going back into a burning the-A-ter for Noodle.  Return glasses, get money back and head home.

We decided to try again in a day or two with a 2-D version of the movie, and I am happy to report that that showing went quite well.  After an initial nervous moment when the lights went out and the loud previews started, I was able to drag her onto my lap and explain that we really couldn't leave again and that she just needed to give it a moment to get used to it and she was going to LOVE it.  Whether she liked it or not.

And she did.  Like it, I mean.

Now, as for the movie itself.  As I said before, it was great.  This might be a good time to inform you that I am a Disney geek.  I've seen them all.  Well, most of them, anyway.  Especially most of them with a princess and a true love type story mixed in there because I am a sucker for a true love story.  And I can sing all the songs.  With or without the actual music going at the time.  I know them that well.  Let's not tell anyone about this, k?

With all the Toy Story and Cars and Monsters, Inc and Wall-E and Shrek going around these days, it's been awhile since I've gotten a good dose of Disney Princess/True Love mojo going.  I missed out on "The Princess and the Frog" because Noodle was too young to sit still long enough in the the-A-ter, and I haven't managed to get it on DVD yet (I don't do blue-ray, yet.  Behind the times, I know), so I was pretty excited to think that my reason for having kids in the first place was finally going to start paying off.  Because anyone that tells you that they didn't have kids so they could have a reason to go see kid movies is lying.  To you and to themselves.

And you know what?  It didn't disappoint.  It was classic Disney.  Fun songs, huge eyes, and true love abounds in this one (seriously, they almost went a little overboard on the eyes, they were that big.  And I like big eyes on my Disney princesses.).  There was action, laughter, tears, and a satisfying ending that no self respecting feminist will like, but that I loved because I am not one.  So I went away a happy camper.

Oh, and Noodle liked it too.  She might even tackle 3-D next time.  Maybe.  Stay tuned.

A Little More Catching Up

Here's another one that I hated to lose.  I'm still laughing remembering this.


I Hate Them, So They Must Die

I'm not talking about people, you sickos.  I'm talking about bugs.  Spiders, to be exact.  Big, ugly spiders, to be quite precise.

I like to think of myself as reasonably hard core.  Showering is preferable, but if made to go without for a period of time I would be just fine.  I have taken my fair share of self defense classes, and feel confident in my ability to kick some ass when the need arises.

Although the need has never arisen, so I could be quite off on that one.

I can be present at the scene of all manner of blood and injury and feel perfectly calm and collected.  Well enough, even, to administer first aid if needed.

And if I were a participant on some Survivor type show, where they dump me in the middle of some God forsaken land and tell me to get to safety or at least survive for several days until help comes, I would do a-ok.

Until I came across my first spider.  Throw a spider in my path and I will run screaming, my arms waving wildly above my head, at a clip the would surprise you.

Because I hate spiders.

And that is why, when I started to step out onto my back porch, and saw two impossibly long black legs sticking up menacingly from the seam on the patio, you had best believe that I halted mid step, hovered myself back into the house, and slammed the sliding door so hard that I am actually really surprised that it's still in one piece.  Then I locked it.  Just in case.

I called T at work right away, watching those awful legs for any sign that it was going to go skittering off into some unknown area of the yard/house, or worse yet, launch itself straight at the door.

T:  Hey!  Just who I wanted to hear from (see, aren't we cute?).

Me:  Where is the bug spray?

T:  We have bug spray?

Me:  Honey!  It's a garage thing.  That's your arena.  Where is it?

T:  I don't know.  Why?

Me:  Because of the HUGE black widow that's staring at me right now.

T:  Where?

Me:  Back patio.

T:  Babe, just step on it.

Me:  ARE YOU CRAZY??  Never mind, I'll find it.

And find it it, I did.  I marched that spray back to the slider, squeaked it open just a bit (no point in giving it an opportunity, right?), and gave it a light dusting of bug spray.  And by light dusting I mean I let loose with a veritable flood of the stuff.  But apparently it wasn't enough, because the stupid spider came leaping out of the seam, legs flailing, all eight of them, running in many circles.

So I sprayed it some more.  Then I put the biggest glass bowl I could find (clear, mind you, so I could keep an eye on it) upside down over that nasty thing.  In the sun.  Did I mention that it was about 107 degrees out?  No, seriously, 107.

So that pretty much did it.  I think I handled that rather well.


Like you wouldn't have done the same thing?!

I have to go buy some more bug spray.

A Little Catching Up

It appears I am a serial blog starter.  Not to be confused with a blogger, because I don't seem to be able to keep them going, but I certainly am good at starting them.  You know what's funny about that?  I keep stopping because I don't like the names I give my blogs.  Not because I don't have anything to say.  Trust me, I have plenty, as you will soon see.  But purely because of the name.  So not only am I a serial blog starter, but also very shallow.  Who knew?

But as I really like this name (for a whole myriad of reasons that I will share with you another time), I am feeling to need to transfer some posts from another blog to this one.  Because while I don't like the blog names, I LOVE several of my posts.  And here is one of them:


Whatever You Do, Don't Call The Cops!!

When you're 4, everything is new.  Everything is "why?", and every answer, is followed by "Oh.  Why?"

And let's not forget that kids are sponges.

So it shouldn't surprise me that when I muttered unspeakable things at the guy in the car in front of me today, the conversation went something like this:

Noodle:  "Why did you say that, Mama?"

Me: " Because the jackass guy in front of me wanted to turn and decided at the last minute not to.  Twice."

Noodle:  "Why?"

Me:  "Why didn't he turn?  Because he noticed a cop coming the other way, and he didn't want to get in trouble for turning where he shouldn't."

Noodle:  "What's a cop?"

Me:  "A policeman.  Or Woman.  Police Person."

Noodle:  "Why?"

Me:  "Because boys AND girls can be members of the police force."

Noodle:  "The what?"

Me:  "The police force.  The people you call when someone is doing something bad."

Noodle:  "Oh.  Why?"

Me:  "Because the cops can come and take care of it."

Noodle:  "Why?"

Me:  "Who wants McDonalds?! (When all else fails, change the subject, I always say!)"

Later that day, while cleaning the kitchen, Noodle was in the backyard, flinging around a cattail that she had found on our walk the day before.  Soon, flinging around became dipping it in the dog's water dish and dragging it all over the sliding glass door, a la masterpiece painting.  I hustled over to tell her to quit jacking up my freshly cleaned window with nasty dog slobber water (I promise I used much nicer words than that... mostly.).  And roughly three seconds later, she was back at it.

This time when I came to tell her to stop, I didn't even say anything.  I just rapped on the glass with a knuckle, and gave her a raised eyebrow (yes, just one) and a stern look.  And with that, she dropped her sopping cattail, put her hands up in the air, and loudly stated:

"Whatever you do, DON'T call the cops!!"

Did I mention that she's four?