It's friggin' hot again. It is one week until Christmas, and it's 80 degrees outside today. Seriously, Mother Nature?
When I was a kid, every year I asked Santa for two things: a pony, and snow. Every. Year. Christmas morning brought all kinds of goodies to my house, but never the two things I asked for. The Barbie Townhouse I got one year almost made up for the lack of snow and large animal, but the longing was still there.
I got to an age where I "understood" about Santa, so I started praying for snow. God, if you'll just let it snow this Christmas, I promise to be good for the rest of my life. I guess He knew he'd get the short end of the stick in that deal, because I never had my white Christmas.
I know, you're thinking that you'd love to be where snow shoveling and ice scraping are just things you see on TV. I love it most of the time, too - just not this week. Running the air conditioner on Christmas to keep from breaking a sweat opening gifts is just wrong. Having to crank the AC down to 50 so it feels like winter is wrong too, but we do it every year.
About two Christmases ago (yes, seriously), I finally came to terms with the fact that I'd never see snow on Christmas morning in Florida. This morning, Molly came to me and said, "Mommy, I really want snow for Christmas. Can you send Santa another email?" I told her it doesn't snow here. She drew a picture of snow and asked me to mail it to Santa.
Another tradition continues.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Funny Sign Sunday
I'm deperately trying to get ready for the holidays, and failing miserably. It didn't stop me from scouring the internet for funny pictures today, though.
This sign made me laugh, then made me feel a little guilty for laughing. Poor little Virginia found out the hard way that there is, indeed, a Santa Claus.
This sign made me laugh, then made me feel a little guilty for laughing. Poor little Virginia found out the hard way that there is, indeed, a Santa Claus.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
I love my kid, but DAMN
Molly is in Pre-K now, and she really loves school. Her favorite thing is show and tell, which is supposed to be on Fridays. I say "supposed to be" because her teacher is very lenient, and if the kids show up toting a treasure, she always makes time for them to show the class.
Today, we left a little late for school. We were engrossed in an episode of Go Diego, Go and totally lost track of time. It's understandable if you've ever seen the show. To a couple of preschool girls, Diego is a hottie. I think it was Click the Camera that made us late, though. We all started singing the song, and... well, when you get my girls excited about something, it's hard to get them to refocus. The song is catchy. I'll share.
Anyway, I was scrambling to find shoes and get the girls out the door, so I wasn't paying a lot of attention when Molly said, "Can I bring my lamb to show my friends?" It's a beanie babie sized lamb, in a lovely shade of lavender.
"Yeah, sure, whatever, just put your shoes on the right feet and get in the car."
We pull into the school parking lot and I whip into a parking spot, screaming like a drill seargent. "Unbuckle your seatbelts! Put your shoes back on! Stop hitting your sister! Let's go, maggots, now now NOW!"
I walk them in and nudge Molly into her classroom, breathing a sigh of relief that we made it before we were interrupting "circle time," because when you're late, ALL the kids with prompt parents will tell you that you're late. I love when my weaknesses are pointed out to me by people under four feet tall, don't you?
The kids were just sitting down to circle time, so Molly joined the group. Her teacher, Miss Dawn, said, "Molly, did you bring something to show the class today?" I had a moment of panic, trying to remember if I was supposed to send something, when I remembered the lamb. With a smile of relief, I watched at the door for a moment while Molly held up her little stuffed animal proudly.
"This is my little baby lamb. See, it's a baby and has to wear a diaper. I changed his diaper, so he's not stinky."
Wait, what? Diaper? The lamb did not come with diapers. I stepped a little way into the classroom to see what she had diapered the lamb with when realization struck. It was like slow motion. The teacher looked at the lamb, then slowly turned to look at me. I lunged forward, with a slo-mo "Noooooooooooo," bursting from my lips. At that moment, Abigail piped in with her two cents.
"Oooooohhhh, Molly, that's Mommy's diapers. You's not suppose to pway with Mommy's diapers."
It was a panty liner. She had stuck a panty liner on the tail end of her lamb, straight through its legs, just like a diaper, then taken it to show all her friends.
Heaven help me.
Today, we left a little late for school. We were engrossed in an episode of Go Diego, Go and totally lost track of time. It's understandable if you've ever seen the show. To a couple of preschool girls, Diego is a hottie. I think it was Click the Camera that made us late, though. We all started singing the song, and... well, when you get my girls excited about something, it's hard to get them to refocus. The song is catchy. I'll share.
Anyway, I was scrambling to find shoes and get the girls out the door, so I wasn't paying a lot of attention when Molly said, "Can I bring my lamb to show my friends?" It's a beanie babie sized lamb, in a lovely shade of lavender.
"Yeah, sure, whatever, just put your shoes on the right feet and get in the car."
We pull into the school parking lot and I whip into a parking spot, screaming like a drill seargent. "Unbuckle your seatbelts! Put your shoes back on! Stop hitting your sister! Let's go, maggots, now now NOW!"
I walk them in and nudge Molly into her classroom, breathing a sigh of relief that we made it before we were interrupting "circle time," because when you're late, ALL the kids with prompt parents will tell you that you're late. I love when my weaknesses are pointed out to me by people under four feet tall, don't you?
The kids were just sitting down to circle time, so Molly joined the group. Her teacher, Miss Dawn, said, "Molly, did you bring something to show the class today?" I had a moment of panic, trying to remember if I was supposed to send something, when I remembered the lamb. With a smile of relief, I watched at the door for a moment while Molly held up her little stuffed animal proudly.
"This is my little baby lamb. See, it's a baby and has to wear a diaper. I changed his diaper, so he's not stinky."
Wait, what? Diaper? The lamb did not come with diapers. I stepped a little way into the classroom to see what she had diapered the lamb with when realization struck. It was like slow motion. The teacher looked at the lamb, then slowly turned to look at me. I lunged forward, with a slo-mo "Noooooooooooo," bursting from my lips. At that moment, Abigail piped in with her two cents.
"Oooooohhhh, Molly, that's Mommy's diapers. You's not suppose to pway with Mommy's diapers."
It was a panty liner. She had stuck a panty liner on the tail end of her lamb, straight through its legs, just like a diaper, then taken it to show all her friends.
Heaven help me.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Don't faint
So I was just reading someone else's blog, and it reminded me that it has been a long time since I've been here. I've been oddly busy lately, not as much of a loser as usual. It's been kind of nice. Today I feel like I've been trampled by a herd of buffalo, so I've been hanging out online catching up here and there.
I keep aiming high in my holiday preparations, but somehow I keep falling flat. I've done all kinds of ambitious things, but not the things that I should be doing. I've been making homemade ornaments for the Christmas tree with the girls, but I don't have the tree up yet. I've bought a cupboard full of baking supplies, but done no baking. I did, however, make chocolate covered cherries. Who knew you could make those yourself?
My friend Denise gave me a recipe, so I did it. I'm pretty damn proud of myself, too. I had to rearrange the fridge and hide them behind 47 jars of pickles (how does that happen?) to keep my family from eating them before they liquefy, and I'm hoping there will still be a few at Christmas.
That's all I've done. I have done no shopping, no baking, no decorating. It's 18 days (447 hours, 26783 minutes, or 1606938 seconds) until Christmas. Remember a few minutes ago when I said I haven't been loserish? Yeah, I take it back. We might have a Whoville Christmas this year - we'll just sing a song while holding hands on Christmas morning and call it a year. Think the kids will buy it?
Yeah, me either.
I keep aiming high in my holiday preparations, but somehow I keep falling flat. I've done all kinds of ambitious things, but not the things that I should be doing. I've been making homemade ornaments for the Christmas tree with the girls, but I don't have the tree up yet. I've bought a cupboard full of baking supplies, but done no baking. I did, however, make chocolate covered cherries. Who knew you could make those yourself?
My friend Denise gave me a recipe, so I did it. I'm pretty damn proud of myself, too. I had to rearrange the fridge and hide them behind 47 jars of pickles (how does that happen?) to keep my family from eating them before they liquefy, and I'm hoping there will still be a few at Christmas.
That's all I've done. I have done no shopping, no baking, no decorating. It's 18 days (447 hours, 26783 minutes, or 1606938 seconds) until Christmas. Remember a few minutes ago when I said I haven't been loserish? Yeah, I take it back. We might have a Whoville Christmas this year - we'll just sing a song while holding hands on Christmas morning and call it a year. Think the kids will buy it?
Yeah, me either.
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