I Am 38% Evil

A bit of evil lurks in my heart, but I hide it well. In some ways, I am the most dangerous kind of evil.

How evil are you?

http://www.blogthings.com/howevilareyouquiz/

Also…

The Recipe For Robin

3 parts Love 2 parts Imagination 1 part Intensity Splash of Difance Finish off with an olive

What the he## is Difance? I think they mean “defiance.”

It started off innocently (hmm…I’m noticing a pattern, almost every blog I post begins this way We were having dinner. Hamburgers. Conversations like this often happen when I’m trying to answer my 7 and 5 year old’s questions. I too, am always looking for that teachable moment. It usually goes down like this though. Here’s the background. Last week, my son had horribly chapped lips. I was doing everything I could and bought just about every lip balm Crary’s had to offer. But, he was having trouble eating because he couldn’t open his mouth all the way. Here was dinner:

Son: (sounding like Humphrey Bogart at age 7) I can’t ope-mah-mouf.

Dad: Ha! You sound just like Popeye.

Son: Does Popeye have chapped lips?

Mom: No, hon, Popeye smoked a pipe.

Daughter: What’s a pipe?

Mom: You smoke it. Like a cigarette.

Daughter: My brother shouldn’t smoke. It’s bad for you.

Dad: That’s right.

Son: Do I have to eat spinach?

Dad: You should. It’s good for you. Gives you muscles.

Son: I still can’t open my mouth.

Daughter: Who’s Popeye again?

Mom: The sailor man.

Daughter: How can you smoke on a boat? It’s too windy.

Mom: Well…I suppose if…yeah…it’s windy.

Daughter: Pipe’s are under the toilet. Why does Popeye put them in his mouth?  That’s yucky. I don’t like Popeye.

Son: (in increasing distress) I’m not putting my mouth in the toilet!!!

Daughter: (seizing the opportunity) HA! You have a toilet mouth!

Son: (turns purple with rage)

Dad: (turns purple with frustration)

Daughter: Who’s popeye again?

Mom: Oh for Pete’s sake! Just forget it! Yes. Popeye has chapped lips. That’s why he talks like that. He has chapped lips just like you.

I am now going to confess to something that might not make me politically popular. It’s arguably more controversial than my Marie Osmond confession. Here goes…

I do not save all of my children’s artwork.

That’s right. I said it. I own it.

That does not mean I don’t appreciate it. Far from it. But, after a few years at this, here’s the system I’ve worked out. They bring it home. Their Dad and I LOVE it. I tape it up all over the kitchen. It stays there for a few weeks, then it’s on to the next crop. I can’t scrap book. Last year I scanned EVERYTHING they brought home on two disks and put them in our safe. I doubt either of them will ever ask for it. Ever. But…even that process took hours. I occasionally take digital pictures of some of their best work and blog it. That’s my scrapbooking. Also…our entire X-mas tree is decorated with all of the ornaments and holiday-themed artwork they’ve produced over the last 5 years. I’ve also permanently decorated my downstairs guest bathroom (the one where EVERYONE goes when they visit) with their stuff. I put it in glass frames. Every year or so, I switch out for new pieces. But…I don’t save it all. Can’t save it all. There’s too much.

If I ever doubted my resolve on this,  a couple of years ago, my parents moved out of my childhood home. While packing boxes, my mom asked me if I wanted my 5 year old handprints and a nursery school scrapbook of mine. I do not. I am at peace

Here is my version of scrapbooking…blog-style!

My son’s interpretation of a tiger.

Finally, my daughter….sledding.

So, what do YOU guys do w/ all of it?

I just have to laugh at the current crop of Oscar nominated movies. I have seen none of them. I have no hope of seeing any of them and maybe with the exception of Juno, have no desire to see any of them. Seriously, I think they named “There Will Be Blood” just for me.  I would also avoid anything titled, “There Will Be Cancer”, “There Will Be Guys in Latex Fat Suits,” or “There Will Be Harvey Keitel Naked.”

 THIS is what I’ve seen this year, and therefore here are my Oscar picks:

1.) Bee Movie (eh…Also, the mosquito as the lawyer?? Come ON!)

2.) Ratatouille (fell asleep)

3.) Superbad (Supergood!!!!)

4.) Knocked Up (Fantastic. 30 minutes too long)

5.) Er…

6.) Hmmm

M’yeah. I got nothin’. We see nothing. I honestly think the last movie I’ve seen in the theater that wasn’t G rated was Gladiator.

Woot!

We’re in the process of making a major family decision. We are a dog family. Only, we don’t currently have a dog.

First, the Sad Part of the Story…

We had a dog. A beagle. Her name was Zosia. But…Zosia never really adapted to the birth of my children. She got quite depressed and then started exhibiting behavioral problems. Then, she got in to the garbage and ate some things that were very bad for her. Chicken bones. We eventually had to euthanize her. That was nearly five years ago.

Fast Forward to Now…

My husband thinks we’re ready to get a new dog. Not today, not tomorrow, but perhaps for Xmas 2008. I have mixed feelings. I love dogs too. I loved having a dog, just not with two little un-potty trained babies. We don’t have that anymore. Our house is not new anymore. We’ve lived in it for nearly 3 years and the kids have done their own number on the carpets and furniture. I’m over it.

So…we might be getting a dog this year. The question is what kind of dog. I have a couple of deal-breakers. It must be a dog that’s good with children (obviously). We do not want a large dog. (25 lbs max.) My husband does not want a “sissy” dog in the sense that he wants one that will love hanging out with him in the woods from time to time. I do NOT want a dog that sheds heavily (which leaves Beagles OUT). We’re thinking some type of terrier. In particular, the Border Terrier. Check it out.

http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/borderterrier.htm

He’s a cutie. Looks a little like Benji. We’ve not completely ruled out the idea of picking one up from a shelter. But…again…my major deal breaker is the shedding issue so I’d want to be VERY careful in choosing a mutt. I know all dogs shed to some extent, but some are much worse than others. (Don’t be offended Daggett. We love you just the way you are…living at Aunt Becky’s. You know we are WAY too high strung over here :)

So…I invite thoughts, suggestions, advice (except for my mother…she’s already made her opinions clear

Again…it never ends well when I try to be crafty. Hence, the title of my blog. Not Bedazzled…get it? I know, I’m very deep Many layers. Like Shakespeare.

Anyhoo…my son got a $5 Magic Dino kit from the toy store. Fake egg. Fake lava pit. Hot water.

The egg dissolves and erupts. Teeny tiny dinosaur is to emerge from the primordial ooze.

Total fun for a 7 year old boy, right? Aw yeah. We were doing fairly well with it. Usually these things end in a giant globby mess that bear no resemblance to the happy family fun portrayed on the box. This one though, this one worked.

Except for one thing…

Yesterday, I sliced my finger with a steak knife (whole ‘nutha story, but further proof of why I leave the cooking to the professionals).

In the annals of bad owies, I’d go 1.) childbirth 2.) broken toe (from that one time on my sister’s evil couch); 3.) cold water sprayed into the dry sockets left by my wisdom teeth; 4.) the time I accidentally, full-force sprayed shaving gel into my eye; and now…5.) fake dino lava seeping into a fresh cut on my finger.

Yowza!

I know, the picture doesn’t do it justice. I look like a wimp. I am a wimp. But…ow!

Was it good for you buddy?

Ok, I’m going to try something out here. I will be “live” blogging while watching American Idol. I use the term “live” loosely because of the whole DVR thing. Here goes: 

8:01 -For the love of all that is holy, how can anyone watch this “live”! Philidelphia is the city of brotherly love? Seriously? I did not know. Hundreds of thousands of people came out to audition and it’s going to be narrowed down to just one?

:04 - Randy looks thinner again. Is it the glasses? I need some of those glasses. Also, thumbs up on Joey Catalono less 204 lbs. Good start. I don’t think I can do 3 weeks of William Hung.

:10 -  Enter, SexyFace. “That’s why Mr. The Bee Gees is so special to me.” (please be good, for the love of William Hung, please be good) “I wanna love a girl from the hair to the nipple.” This week’s contortionist complement (from Paula). “I love how you phonetically learned that song.”

19: James Lewis the Philly tour guide. Oy.  It is at this point hit fast forward

29: All I’m sayin’, if Temptress Brown can sing, I want her to win. “Make me mad enough and I’m gonna break your bones.” (please let her be able to sing!)

31: Oh no.

51: Why yes, I’ve also enjoyed the song Allentown by…Bon Jovi. Sparkly vet student, you are so not coming anywhere near my imaginary dog. Peace, love, and chicken grease. OMG, she DID look like Willhem Dafoe!

 And we’re at the 1/2 way point. It only took me about 18 minutes w/ my trusty DVR (Buckeye Cable is going to start owing me a commission).

:17 - Milo the 39 year old.  “I write songs that nobody else has heard.” Great, otherwise that would be plagiarism. No worries Simon, in America we also call it creepy.

:20 - The Cage Fighting Horse Girl. Sold! You already know Simon’s going to dig her.

:28 - Anyone who walks in wearing a cape, I immediately fast foward. Crap! Not fast enough. I’m going to be seeing hairy Princess Leia in my sleep for awhile.

:40 - Chest Hair Dude, I hope it was worth it for you. And then the music changes and we meet Chris Watson who sang Uncle Cracker. It’ll be interesting to see if he can hang.

:49 - Actual Princess Leia. You know, I don’t care how old I am, if I ever tried to leave the house in that get up, my mother and sister would hunt me down hog tie me. Then, saying the eff word in front of your grandparents…classy!

:54 - The singing nanny. And you know there’s a philadelphia mom w/ twins out there who’s going to be SOL for her next hair appointment. Yep. And that’s a wrap.

It took all of 42 minutes! Bright side…it HAS to be better than last year? What did you think?

Every once in a while, someone will ask me if it’s weird seeing my sister on TV every morning. Mostly, no. Mostly it’s just perfectly normal. Though when my kids were smaller, they used to get mightily peeved at her when she wouldn’t answer them if they talked to the screen.

However….the other night (very late….er early…the photo timestamp is accurate) I couldn’t sleep and was attempting to clear out my DVR queue. I hit pause and got up to get a drink of water or something. When I came back, I saw this:

And…it followed me whereever I went.

That was a little weird.

However, it is a smokin’ hot picture of her no?

Yesterday was a 1/2 day of school, which in our house meant my daughter got to go to school w/ the Big Kids. It’s kind of funny to listen to “life” dawning on her. Our morning went something like this:

 Me: Time to get up! School, remember?

She: Wha–bu–what? It’s sooooo early!

Me: Yup.

She: Mr. Golden Sun is still sleeeeeeping!

Me: Uh huh.

Then, her excitement got the best of her and she was sweetness and light. Her brother was getting protectively in to it as well. He was giving her the business about how to wait at the bus stop. She was rolling her eyes, but listened.

I thought, maybe this won’t be so bad next year.  They were cooperative and happy…chirpy even. Until breakfast. Still haven’t completely made it to the grocery store yet. My daughter wanted the last “parp tart.” After a mild skirmish, she got her way. I had to bribe them though. I reminded them that I was going to be at work when they got home and that my mother (Busia) would be here. Now, I promise I have not let the boy watch this movie, but I swear my son raised his hand and said “High Five,” just like Borat. Ugh. All I’m sayin’ is that if I see him walking around with his underwear hiked up to his shoulders, I’m going to make some phone calls!

I started out with good intentions. I usually do. It was lunchtime. It happened to just be me and the kids. We needed to go grocery shopping but I didn’t have time. One wanted sandwiches, the other one wanted nuggets at first. Then, they looked at each other, looked at me and yelled,  ”Pizza!”

A consensus. This is rare. All righty, I thought. I was sure we had some Dijorno or something like it. We did not. Ok, I didn’t have all the fixins for homemade. But…I had a major meltdown on my hands. They were determined.

Ok. I’ll just have to be creative. (Remember that phrase. Everytime I utter or think it, you can be sure it’s going to end up as a blog topic.)

Bread. Check. Pizza sauce. Not so much. Not even an inkling of anything remotely related to pizza sauce ingredients except for a teeny can of tomato paste. I DID have spaghetti sauce. Close enough. Right? They’re munchkins, how discriminating can they be? Cheese. Check. Pepperoni. Check.

I was an enabler, I know, but I couldn’t bring myself to participate any further. I handed them all of the ingredients and this is what they created.

This is what happened.

The ketchup was my daughter’s idea. “Ugh, but that will make it gross, honey.” Yeah, she looked at me with about the exact same expression as you have right now. Why not!

My son thought it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. He wants to do it again.

I think I’ll stick with Taco Helper (husband’s working again tonight). It could end badly.