Every year I come up with a few resolutions. Lose weight, become more organized, convince The Man we should take Salsa lessons... and every year I fail.
This year I'm going to make some similar resolutions and I have the utmost optimism that 2012 is my year. So behold my list:
2012 New Years Resolutions:
1. Become more organized. It's no secret that I'm about as disorganized as they come. But I am getting better. No, really, I am! My kids have only been late to school this year once and it was only because my alarm clock was set for 7 PM instead of 7 AM. I did set the alarm, so it can't be blamed on disorganization. Just plain stupidity, really. So this year I plan to make schedules and stick to at least half of them. This would be epic.
2. Eat vegan whenever possible. I've posted about it before. And I have no problem with vegan food. I love my veggies and I don't even have a problem with most vegan cheese. But it's my family, y'all. They have problems when I try to take all the animals out of their diet. They're all "Mom, can we please get hot dogs at the store?" and "Not beans and rice, again, mom!" So I break down. I buy the stuff and inevitably I eat the stuff. But this year, I'm going to really buckle down. I'm not going to be militant about it, though. If I find myself as a guest at someone's table I'm not going to turn down a meal they've made for me if it includes meat. If I'm at a birthday party at a restaurant that offers no vegan options, I won't sit quietly drinking iced tea with lemon. But I will do my best.
3. Walk my poor dog in the mornings. Sudo needs exercise. I need exercise. Together we will triumph. I've said I was going to do this so many times and I start out really well. Sometimes I go for one, two, even three weeks at a time waking up a bit earlier every morning and taking Sudo for a nice, brisk, cool morning walk. But then one thing will put me off the schedule and it's all over. And Sudo and my ass both suffer. So this year, I'm really going to make that effort. Because I love my puppy and my ass is taking on a life of its own.
4. Take a little more care in my appearance. I am the queen of the ponytail and no makeup look. That worked great for me in my teens and twenties, but I'll be turning 35 this year and au natural isn't quite as beautiful as it used to be. So this year I'm going to blow dry my hair every time I shower instead of just crawling into bed with it wet so that it's all strangly flat on one side and horridly frizzy on the other in the morning. I'm going to put on a little eyeliner and mascara and lip gloss before I leave the house and make sure my eyebrows are under control at all times. I'll avoid chipped toenails and keep my hands moisturized. That's probably enough for this year. I certainly won't be turning into glamor mom any time soon.
I think we'll stick to those four solid resolutions. I wouldn't want to overwhelm myself. Happy New Year, y'all!
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Every year I come up with a few resolutions. Lose weight, become more organized, convince The Man we should take Salsa lessons... and every year I fail.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
If I title this post "Milk Bags" you'll probably think you're clicking to see something more exciting
It was brought to my attention a little while ago that Canadians purchase their milk in bags.
I'll wait while you giggle at that phrase.
I know... I giggled, too.
Okay, all composed now?
I was so taken back with this that I had to google it and found out just how Canadians use their milk bags.
I found this very informative video that explains it all.
I'm impressed. Because in this house we always have this giant gallon container of milk in the fridge and for a lot of the time (about half of the time, I'd venture) it's less than half full and taking up a bunch of unnecessary space.
Not just that, but unless people recycle them, those giant containers are taking up a ton of room in landfills. The bags, evidently, use 75% less plastic and use less energy when making them. I'm all for the bags.
The bags come in a larger bag that has three 1.33 liter bags inside of it. So you only open a third of your milk at a time, extending the life of the milk. Theoretically, it would be less expensive to package the milk and therefore less expensive to buy the milk, too. So maybe we'd pay less than $4 a gallon for it.
I found this recent article stating that Tesco stores (primarily in the UK) are carrying a brand of bagged milk and an accompanying JUGIT re-usable jug designed to make the milk bags easier to use. Because evidently Canadians are the only ones who can manage this whole bag thing without all kinds of nasty spillage.
I can see the infomercials now.
Anyhow, I'm really hoping bagged milk makes its way to the states soon. With the way my kids go through milk, I'd welcome a more environmentally friendly and space saving package.
And maybe they'll expand to soy milk, too!
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Yesterday I had an appointment scheduled with Comcast to come out and install super high speed Internet for our house. Like, mega high speed. So fast that Bug can play video games and I can upload eBay listings and Munchkin can stream Hulu and The Man can do whatever the heck it is that he does. All at the same time.
Our appointment yesterday was between 3 and 5 pm. Around 4, I received a call from someone saying that the technician was running late and would need another hour. No problem, I said. We'll be here.
When it was quarter to 8 and no one had shown up, I called. They apologized and rescheduled for today from 11 to 1. I was a little irritated, but not steaming mad. Yet.
At 11:30 this morning I received a call from someone at Comcast letting me know that the technician would be a little late. At this point I was really getting frustrated. The technician finally showed up at 1:30 and let me know that the line was cut outside of our house and he couldn't do anything. So he was going to send out a supervisor to "take pictures".
Take pictures?? Take freaking PICTURES?
On day 2 of waiting around the house for Comcast to show up and install this super mega fast Internet, this guy has the nerve to tell me he can't do anything and he's going to send someone out to take pictures.
Guess what? The Spaz officially got pissed.
As the technician pulled out of our driveway, I called Comcast. The automated service prompted me to press 4 for the option of "the technician has already been here and I am still having trouble". I waited on hold for a long time and then talked to someone in the technical department. I verified my information, complete with full address including city, state, and zip code, and explained the situation and was told that they couldn't help me, but they would transfer me to sales.
Again, I waited on hold for a long time and then talked to someone in the sales department. I verified my information, complete with full address including city, state, and zip code, the last four digits of my social, and my full name. I explained the situation and was told they couldn't help me, but they would transfer me to billing.
I begged them to make sure that billing was the department I needed to talk to... because it sure didn't SOUND like I should talk to billing for a problem with the line outside. But I was assured. Billing would help.
So I waited on hold for another eternity and then talked to someone in the billing department. I verified my information complete with full address including city, state, and zip code, the last four digits of my social, my full name, my date of birth, and the number of times my dog peed on a tree today. I explained the situation AGAIN and was told that they needed to contact the technical department for my area and that I would receive a call back.
In a panic I unleashed a fury upon poor Jasmine of the Comcast billing department. I apologize, Jasmine, I know it's not your fault. I told Jasmine how this was day number TWO of waiting around for Comcast and that I did not want to wait ANOTHER DAY for this. I demanded that someone come out TODAY and fix this issue.
Jasmine said there was nothing she could do. So I demanded to be transfered to someone else.
I got the standard, "I can transfer you, but they're just going to tell you the same thing." By the way, Jasmine, when people say that to me, it just pisses me off more.
In my pissed off Spaz mode I spat back "That's FINE, let me hear it from THEM."
So then I talked to Maxine. Jasmine had already explained my situation to her so I didn't have to explain it again. She told me the same thing. Maxine promised that she would contact the head of the repair department in my area and that I'd receive a call back probably within a half hour to an hour from him.
In the meantime, I tweeted.
And almost immediately received a response.
Ah, the power of social media. I explained my situation to @ComcastWill in three different tweets of 140 characters or less. He requested I send him (via direct message) our address and phone number and he'd see if he couldn't help out.
Unfortunately, I guess he couldn't help out because I never heard back from him.
The next call I got was from Maxine again who said that she'd schedule a supervisor to come out tomorrow between 11 and 1 to see if there was a way to run a new cable and if there was a way, a technician would be out just after him to install it. But, she was doubtful that a cable could be run without cutting down some TREES.
So it's more than likely that we'll be waiting for several days. Tomorrow for the supervisor, another day for a tree cutter, and then finally (cross your fingers) for a technician to install our mega lightning fast connection.
Now, I know it's not Comcast's fault that there are trees in the way. But it is their fault that they can't seem to do anything in a timely manner. It is their fault that no one showed up yesterday and it is their fault that the technician was late again today. It is their fault that they can't get a supervisor to come by today and look at this situation and it is their fault that they didn't know this might be an issue when I placed an order. So over all, it is their fault that I'm still using a ridiculously SLOW connection. And therefore, they suck.
Update - the next day - The supervisor came by today and let us know that we need to cut the trees outside of our house. Problem being that the trees that need to be cut are surrounding the power line that feeds electricity into our house. So now we wait for FPL to come out and assess how to cut the trees. Hooray!
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
As I've mentioned before, The Man and I never legally married. We have numerous reasons for not going the white dress route, some are his reasons and some are mine, but mostly we just don't feel that it's important to us. We do, however, have an anniversary. And that day is today.
Today The Man and I have been truly committed to each other for a decade. Ten years ago today, we promised that we'd always be there for each other. The Man officially accepted Bug and Munchkin and me as his family and promised to love us, unconditionally.
When I think back to that time, I remember trying to convey to him what he was really taking on. I was a single mom with two tiny children. Bug and Munchkin would never know their biological father as their dad. They would grow up calling The Man "Daddy" and looking to him for guidance and love and support. I wanted him to understand what kind of astronomical responsibility that was going to be and to understand that once he committed to it, he was truly committed.
In one moment, The Man accepted that. He promised he would be there for us, be there for them, and that no matter what happened between The Man and I, he would always be their dad.
I think it's a rare person who has that much love and commitment in their heart and sometimes I just can't believe I found someone like him.
In the past ten years he has never wavered. He has celebrated all of their accomplishments and struggled through all of their hard times. He has held my hand through hospital visits and late night illnesses. He has held video cameras through recitals and ceremonies and first steps and birthday parties. The Man has spent hours talking with the kids and helping them to become better people. He has perfected magic tricks and corny jokes just to make them smile. He has volunteered his back for the scouts and watched diligently at karate classes. He has done everything that a father should do and more.
And through it all he has never stopped loving me.
I don't know what amazing act of kindness I must have done to win me the karma it must have required to have him in my life. But I can't tell you how thankful I am for him. Happy Anniversary Mr. Wonderful. I love you so much.
Monday, December 26, 2011
We had a very Merry Christmas here in Spazland complete with a helium filled flying shark. But I am glad it's over.
Christmas is such a whirlwind of activity for us. On December 26th I always sort of feel like I've just completed some type of strange Olympic Triathalon where the objective is to continuously clean up torn wrapping paper while stuffing my face with food while driving from one house to another and trying to fit more toys in the vehicle after each stop.
Highlights of Christmas in Spazland 2011:
- Tofurky Italian Deli Slices are a WIN! They were delicious and I feel so loved that a very special family member had them available for me this Christmas. I'm going to have to add them to the "always have in the fridge" list for our house.
- Playing at the park in perfect 80 degree weather on Christmas Eve with the kids and family was a wonderful South Florida treat. It's times like these that I can't imagine living anywhere else.
- My sister's reproduction of my grandmother's 7 layer salad was spot on! It was like Grandmommy was right there with us.
- The kids and The Man let me sleep until after 8 AM on Christmas morning and when I was finally woke up, coffee was ready.
- The Man got me a Ninja! So far I've made pancake batter, scrambled eggs, and a delicious smoothie in it and I am thrilled. Our old blender was an evil contraption of misery that required me to shake it violently while blending in order to actually get things to blend. The Ninja is my new best friend. I am proudly displaying it next to my KitchenAid Stand Mixer.
- I got to bond with my new dog niece. I wasn't feeling so great for a good portion of Christmas Day so I spent a lot of time chilling on the couch watching A Christmas Story with my brother-in-law's absolutely adorable dachshund, Molly. She's so sweet and cuddly and precious it hurts.
- Brussel sprouts. My aunt made these brussel sprouts that were amazing. I tell you this because I hate brussel sprouts. I've never once, in my entire life, liked one. But since I'm not eating meat, I decided to give them a go. And they were superfantastic. I'm going to get her recipe and post it when I can. Incredible.
Now it's time to test the capacity of the garbage truck that will come by our house in a couple of days and get our lives back to normal. As normal as they can possibly be when the kids don't go back to school until January 10th. I hope y'all had just as wonderful a Christmas as I did!
Friday, December 23, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
We live in a very rural part of South Florida. We've got one gas station, one grocery store, and a good 15 minute drive to anything resembling a real shopping situation.
There are times when I lament that 15 minute drive. Like, when the kids have a birthday party to go to right down the street but I have to drive all the way "in to town" to pick up a birthday gift. Or when I have to find a replacement tree stand 5 days before Christmas. You're getting the idea.
But most of the time I absolutely love where we live. I love that we still have roadside stands for all kinds of things from dreamcatchers to cheesecakes. I love that when I go to the grocery store people smile and say hi. I love that my kids go to a good school where all the teachers know them. I love that Bug fishes in canals with his friend who lives right up the street and Munchkin can ride horses all day long just a few minutes away.
And lately, I love our new U Pick It farm.
There was always a U Pick It farm located there, but before it was just strawberries. And it was just U Pick It. Now some new owners have renovated the place and it's all kinds of veggies and herbs and everything you could ever want. And you don't have to pick it yourself, they have a little market.
I went there for the first time about a month ago and I was blown away by everything they had. Almost everything is grown right there on the farm, but they bring in other stuff they can't grow, too. I picked up locally grown lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, and watermelon. I also grabbed some apples and grapes. I think my total was something like $8. Which is so amazing I almost cried.
Since then I haven't bought any produce at Publix. It's all from the U Pick It farm. And I am a happy happy camper. Saturday I stopped in after their posted closing time and they were happy to let me shop. I hadn't seen any fresh herbs in the market before so I asked the wonderful lady who runs the market if she had any. She was happy to walk across the farm and snip me some fresh basil and parsley. I can't even explain to you how amazing those herbs smelled in my van. I nearly stuck my head in the bag. And the bruschetta I made with those herbs and the fresh tomatoes I bought at the same time? TO DIE FOR.
So when they had a Ladybug Release party last weekend I was geared up to go release some ladybugs on the farm. Evidently, ladybugs eat other bugs that are harmful to the crops. So they invited the community to come out and help them release a whole giant mega mess of ladybugs.
When we walked outside of the market the kids were each handed a brown paper sack full of ladybugs.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Today's post will be my final installment of Christmastime with the Spaz until after Christmas when I'm sure to update you about how all the craziness went down. So savor it.
When I discussed this with one of my favorite friends, she said "So are you going to title this post Spaz vs The Tree?"
It would make a great title. But I don't think I can fully capture the fun that was our Christmas tree this year in a Spaz vs type of post so I'll just tell the story.
I'd like to preface this by letting y'all know that I am an expert tree decorator. I'm so darned good at it that my mom and dad commission me to decorate their 9 foot beauty every year. And every year they ooh and aah over it, so I know I'm good.
So last week some time The Man brought the tree down from the attic and it has been sitting in the living room since then. Tonight the kids were all "Mommy, when are we going to put up the tree?" and "How will Santa know where to put our presents if we don't have a tree up?" and "All our friends have Christmas trees up."
So I was like "Quit whining or I'll tell Santa we're Jewish!"
And then we decided to put up the tree.
I opened up the box and discovered, much to the dismay of my little angels, that the tree stand that comes with the tree was missing. We searched the attic (well I searched the attic... I typically don't let the kids go in the attic. Only when they're bad.) and found nothing. We searched the boxes and boxes of ornaments and other Christmas things. No tree stand.
So I unearthed the tree stand that holds real trees and attempted to prop it up in that. It promptly fell over. I wedged a towel in there with it in order to give the artificial tree stump some girth. It fell over again, though this time not quite as promptly.
So I googled and discovered that Walmart carries replacement tree stands for just this type of predicament. Goober and I jumped in the van and headed off to our local Walmart, 5 days before Christmas, in the hope of locating a replacement tree stand for our tree.
We parked the van in no mans land outside of the garden center at Walmart. Goober, carrying a fistful of pennies, nickels, and dimes that he called his "spending money", was hoping to score himself a new LEGO minifigure with all his change. He jumped out of the van and dropped about ten coins on the ground. I took his change and traded him for some quarters I had in the van and he promptly dropped them on the ground, too. After I allowed my child to climb halfway under the van to retrieve all his change, we braved the Walmart parking lot, hand in hand.
Once inside I was mortified to find out that they were sold out of replacement tree stands. Evidently we're not the only people who somehow lose these invaluable parts to the tree. I was about to leave the store in defeat when I spotted in the far corner of the garden center a sign. It said "Christmas Trees - $17!"
And I was all "SWEET!"
So I dragged Goober, whining about his lack of minifigure, over to the real Frasier Firs wrapped up in their blue twine encasings and picked what appeared to be the best one. I tore the tag off that sucker and we went back into the store to locate said minifigure and pay for our new tree.
After we had paid, I grabbed that tree, put it under one arm ala Paul Bunyan, grabbed Goober's hand with my free hand and we made our way to the van. I felt quite "Independent Woman" carrying that tree through the parking lot like an Amazon Lady. Evidently Christmas trees aren't nearly as heavy as The Man has been leading me to believe all these years. I did get some odd stares from other Walmart patrons. But seriously, who were they to judge in their hot pink spandex pants and zebra striped tube tops?
With a touch of a button I opened the hatch to the back of the van, threw the tree inside, and away we flew like the down of a thistle.
Upon arriving home, I filled our real tree stand up with water and securely fastened our new tree inside. We freed it from it's twine prison and watched as the tree dropped about half of its needles onto the floor. As I attempted to fluff the tree out a bit more, even more needles dropped. It was as if it was raining needles in the house. Oh, the joy that is Christmas.
Munchkin and I then went about searching for the tree lights, which we located in a festive red and green plastic bin. They were a tangled mess, but I was feeling triumphant and strong and knew I could handle it.
Until I plugged them in.
You guessed it. Nothing. We checked the bulbs, we made sure they were tight. We twisted, we tried a different outlet. But it was to no avail. We had no Christmas lights.
"We can have a tree without lights, Mommy" my sweet little Munchkin said as she looked up at me with her big blue eyes.
"Not for us, sweetheart. We shall have lights!"
So, after I washed the sap off of my hands and brushed the needles out of my hair, we headed off to Walgreens where we found an abundance of lights. (I had actually checked Walmart for lights when we were there thinking this might be an issue, but much like replacement tree stands, Walmart is sorely lacking in Christmas merchandise right now.)
Armed with four brand new boxes of lights, we were back in the van and determined to get our Christmas on. We sang to "Rockin Around The Christmas Tree" and "Jingle Bells" and "O Holy Night" all the way home.
But y'all, by the time we got home and I unwrapped those lights and put them on the tree, my Christmas cheer was depleted. I looked at our pitiful needle shy tree and I exhaled. I opened up the three boxes of unbreakable Christmas ornaments and I said to the kids "Go for it, guys."
And that was it for me.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
This is the time of year we try to find gifts for those special people in our lives. We try to be thoughtful, try not to break our bank account, try to find the perfect thing that will let our loved ones know just how much we care.
Moms can be difficult ones to buy gifts for. If you do a Google search for "What to buy mom for Christmas" you'll come up with a plethora of ideas.
And I'll be the first to say that all those ideas are horsepucky.
HORSEPUCKY I SAY.
A massage. Mom doesn't need a massage. She doesn't have time for a massage. What day, do you think, can mom just whisk herself away to the spa for a Swedish rub down and a clay mask? NO DAY. That day doesn't exist. That gift certificate is going to be shoved in a drawer as a reminder to mom that she doesn't have any time off and it will expire before she ever finds that time.
Gift cards. Sure, this may seem like a great idea. Let mom spoil herself. Except chances are that mom isn't going to use this card on herself. It will go to buy Little Johnny a pair of shoes when he runs through mud puddles in the only pair he owns that are acceptable for school. It will go to purchase a birthday gift for some birthday party that her kid tells her he wants to go to on the DAY OF THE PARTY. Maybe she'll be happy she has it when she finds herself in a bind, but if your idea is to have mom treat herself to something sweet, you're out of luck. Not going to happen.
Homemade gifts. Sure. Add that glittery Christmas ornament or macaroni art to the pile of other homemade gifts she gets throughout the year. Sure mom will put on her happy face and get all teary eyed when she opens her hand knitted sweater with one sleeve shorter than the other, but the only day she'll wear it is the day you give it to her - and it won't be out of the house.
Chocolate. Great idea. Give mom some more body issues and guilt about that gym membership she's been paying for all these years and never using. Hooray, mom can now feel remorse after eating her jumbo sized box of chewy chocolatey goodness while sitting on her jumbo sized ass. Thanks, sweetie.
Bath products. Listen, mom doesn't get to relax in that tub. She's in there noticing that the grout needs to be cleaned and that the hamper is overflowing. She's lucky if she gets enough time to shave her legs. Calgon isn't part of the picture and your smelly bath salts aren't going to do anything more than sit on the side of the tub looking pretty and being one more thing she has to dust.
Magazines. Oh yes, give mom a subscription to Good Housekeeping or Oprah. Now she has more crap lying around her house filled with articles that make her feel like she's not doing a good enough job. How does Martha Stewart make that perfect Cordon Bleu? Who cares?
If you want Cordon Bleu you need to take mom to a French Restaurant and pay for it yourself. Chic Fil A is not french, by the way. There had better be stuff on that menu you can't pronounce and a waiter you can't understand.
Here's some stuff that mom might actually use.
Noise cancelling headphones. Nothing says "I love you, mom!" like giving her a way to shut out the screaming and nonsense going on around her at all times. She's about ready to pop a nerve if she has to hear the carnage from another video game or the sweet sound of Selena Gomez filling the house. Let mom shut it all out to her own tunes with some headphones sure to keep the sweet sounds of Journey in her head and the wretched sounds of her ever-escaping youth out.
Clean up your own darned mess for once. It will bring absolute tears to mom's tired eyes if she wakes up on Christmas morning and there are no messes. Maybe you could even let mom sleep in on Christmas morning instead of waking her up at the crack of dawn so you can tear open the presents she was up until 2 AM carefully wrapping.
A month's supply of Red Bull or any other good solid energy drink. Mom needs to get moving. Sometimes a shot of gurana and caffeine and crack cocaine are just the thing.
Change her oil. Don't give her a gift certificate to get her oil changed. Take her minivan to the shop and have it changed. Pay for it yourself, not on her credit card. While your out, get it detailed. You probably spilled a soda in that back row at some point and she's too scared to go back there to clean it up.
Leave the house. But only if it's clean. That's right, everyone get out of the house for a few hours. Let mom enjoy her own space all by herself. Make sure she has a bottle of good Chardonnay at her disposal, a good book, and some chick movies on DVD. Better yet, get everyone out for the whole weekend and let mom take some time to do whatever she wants in her own home without having to do anything for anyone else.
Make her bed with nice clean linens and big fluffy pillows and then let her go to sleep. There's nothing mom loves more than freshly cleaned sheets on the bed and an uninterrupted night of sleep. Let her sleep until she wakes up all by herself. That might mean you have to be quiet in the morning and avoid fighting with each other for a few hours. I bet you can handle it.
Think out of the box. Mom doesn't want a framed photo of you or a foot massager. She wants a break that doesn't leave her filled with mom guilt. She wants to just not be the mom for a little while. She'll come back refreshed and happy and maybe a little less crazy.
The Elf on the Shelf is the creepiest thing since windowless white vans and that weird rabbit costume scene from The Shining
Apparently I'm a little behind the radar on the newest sensation of the blogosphere. But just in case you are, too, I knew I had to share.
People I Want to Punch in the Throat
This amazing little tidbit of actual reality is like a breath of slightly polluted air... and I love it. I haven't had the opportunity to read Jen's entire blog because I've got this silly little thing to attend to that I like to call work, but she is bookmarked and ready for me to enjoy at my next available opportunity to procrastinate.
If you have some time, I highly recommend the post that made her famous, Over Achieving Elf on the Shelf Mommies, and her latest post SOME Mall Santas. Guaranteed to make you laugh out loud and probably think "Oh thank GOD it's not just me."
Because as y'all know, I'm all about taking the rose-colored glasses of motherhood and not being afraid to let the world know that it's not all rainbows and butterflies up in here.
I'm actually proud of Jen for even having an Elf. It's December 20th and my tree is still not up so the sheer ambition it takes to have an Elf in the house and actually follow through with moving the Elf impresses me. We don't have an Elf in the Spaz house because, frankly (and I know I'm not alone in this), the Elf creeps me the hell out. But if we did have one, I'm sure I'd forget to move him every night. In fact, I can almost bet I'd forget to move him most nights. My children think our house is on some sort of weird tooth-fairy rotation schedule for all the times I've forgotten to leave a buck under their pillows on lost tooth nights.
But don't worry about that, y'all. The kids end up making out because I have such mom guilt about it that the tooth fairy pays double around here.
I'm sure if I attempted the Elf thing, that Sudo would either murder him while we all slept (how do you think Santa would take to his Elf's face being ripped off by our lovely Christmas dog?) or he would literally collect dust sitting on whatever shelf I put him on the first day he came out of the package.
"I don't know Goober. Maybe the Elf is so disappointed in your behavior that he can't bring himself to go back to actually tell Santa."
Whoever came up with this Elf concept is a genius. Far more of a genius than I am because if someone had approached me with this idea a few years ago I would have stared at them in shock and told them that not one mommy I know would dare to do this to their child. Because the Elf horrifies me. The idea of a creepy little guy watching me inanimately all day long, coming to life the minute I go to sleep, magically flying to the North Pole in mere hours (from South Florida, y'all... I don't think so), tattling on me to Santa, and then making it back before I wake up. The mere thought of it gives me literal heebie jeebies.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Last night I was up late working and writing up an investiture ceremony for our Junior troop to perform tonight (in my defense, I can share the procrastination on the last minute ceremony with two other moms) and didn't get to bed until an embarrassing hour of the morning. So my delirium when I was awoken by The Man this morning with one of those loving nudges that said "the dog needs to go out" only seven minutes before my alarm was scheduled to go off began what I'd like to refer to as Spaz vs Morning.
Spaz vs Morning is a little game I like to play with myself. However the game goes really sets the tone for the rest of the day. Shall we tally up how the game went today?
Dog needs to go out 7 minutes before alarm is scheduled to go off: +1 Morning
Spaz stupidly decides to lay back down in bed with only 2 minutes left before alarm is scheduled to go off: -1 Spaz
Spaz unconsciously hits snooze: -1 Spaz
Three more times: -3 Spaz
Spaz wakes up: +1 Spaz
At the exact time that the kids are usually dropped off to school so they have time to eat breakfast there: -1 Spaz
Munchkin is already awake: -1 Morning
There are no groceries in the house, therefore no grab and go breakfasts: -1 Spaz
Kids get dressed on their own with no help from me: +2 Spaz
Spaz throws cardigan and sweatpants on over nightgown: -1 Spaz
Spaz finds 3 Little Debbie Christmas Tree Cakes in pantry to feed kids (and one for self): Draw
Goober drops his Little Debbie in dirt on way to car: +1 Morning
Spaz hands hers to Goober: Draw
Goober drops his 2nd Little Debbie in dirt on way to car: +1 Morning
Goober cries: +1 Morning
Family is in car with 15 minutes left to get to school: +1 Spaz
Flagger stops traffic for 2 minutes so some slow piece of construction equipment can cross the road, twice: +1 Morning
Get behind school bus that stops three times: +3 Morning
In drop off circle, chorus teacher pokes head in car to say good morning. She sees, incredibly messy van: -1 Spaz
And nightgown peeking out from under cardigan: -1 Spaz
And hair that has mind of its own after going to bed with it wet: -1 Spaz
As Goober walks away, Spaz notices that his shirt is inside out: -1 Spaz
TOTAL: Morning: 7; Spaz: -8
I'm going back to bed. I need a do-over.