Disconnected

Have you every said to yourself, “Self.  I wish I had sometime to myself.  Extend periods of quiet where I just get to unplug and not be bugged by anyone or anything!”

Be careful what you wish for….

Guess what happens when torrential rains and 70+ mph straight line winds blow through on a quiet morning?  This happens.

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And this.

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I do believe that those two pieces of the pole should still be connected.

And if your extra, super-duper lucky, like myself, you not only lose power but your cable/internet/phone line rides out the storm here.

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Yeah, I’m pretty sure that in order for my house to have access to the outside world, that still needs to be connected to the pole.

Oh well, I will use this time to get all those little things done that I’m always saying I am going to do but never get around to doing.

Clean up downed tree branches – check

Pull weeds in garden – check

Water yard –  Hahahaha

Do laundry – Oops, can’t 🙂

Vacuum – No can do

Clean the Oven – Yeah right, like I’d do that anyway!

I know.  I can read that book I checked out from the library.

This is awesome.  I’m sitting on the couch in the middle of the day reading!

The house is so quiet.  Maybe too quiet.  Stop it.  Get back to the book.

This book is boring.  I know.  I’ll just pop online and find something interesting to download.

Crap, No I won’t.

This quiet is just so….. quiet.  I mean I think it’s screaming QUIET at me.

Is this really what I’m always nagging about wanting?

This sucks.

So I did what any reasonable adult would do.

I packed up all my beloved, useless electronics and drove to Panera where, for the price of a soda, we enjoyed lights, air conditioning, internet and unlimited refills.

I may have overstayed my welcome, but I left with more than $3.57 worth of soda in our bloated bellies, a newly downloaded Kristin Hannah read, and enough stockpiled ‘juice’ to keep my screens glowing at home, hopefully.

 

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Packing Master?

To know me, is to know that I am a crazily, obsessive planner.  I make daily To-Do lists.  I talk to myself about what I need to get accomplished.  I double check after I’ve done things to make sure I really have them in the order I want them done it.  I drive myself nutty.  I stress and worry and, then stress some more.  IP does not.  He has more of a grab and go persona, not seeing the point in wasting time stressing out or worrying.  In his mind’s eye, it will be what it is.  Being laid back has it’s advantages sometimes, but not always…..

Peter once went to Baltimore

He packed as he ran out the door

Day two came around

No new shirts to be found

Stinky traveler in the same shirt on day four

Summer means vacation.  Being the Type A I am, I began my pre-pre-planning by making lists of the things we would need to pack for an upcoming trip.  IP takes a quick peek at my list and begins to mock me.

“You actually put ‘clothes’ on your list.  Do you really think that was necessary?”

“This from the man who flew to Baltimore without any shirts.”

(Insert image of IP sticking his tongue out at me.)

FYI ~ If this whole blogging/parenting/social working/household managing/trip planning thing doesn’t work out for me, I think I have a future in limerick writing.

 

I wonder if…

I was driving down the street the other day when I saw this vehicle.

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I instantly thought, “Hmmmm, I wonder if this guys is a football fan?  I’m getting the idea that he enjoys watching a little pigskin action on Sundays.  He might consider a battle on the gridiron to be just up is alley.  Now, if I only had a clue which team he was a fan of…..”

I mean really dude.  After a sticker, a flag and the personalized plate, don’t you think you’ve proven your point?  I can almost see him in the store rationalizing that ‘One more giant arrowhead should really do the trick.’

I mean really, what kind of crazy, coo-coo, nut job buys and creates this type of freak of display about some silly little football team?

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Photo on 9-13-12 at 9.39 PM #3

Ummm, wait, nevermind.

 

Yup, me too

In between dropping T-Dog off at baseball practice and rushing back to the pool to watch Lil’ IP Butterfly her little heart out in a swim meet, I was stopped cold in my tracks by this bumper sticker.

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If you’ve read me for a while, you know I despise text lingo, but I literally laughed out loud at the site of this, so much so I forgot to press down the gas pedal when the light changed to green.

All I could think of while sitting in my cute little SUV, windows down, sunroof open, music up a little too loud, was me too honey, me too.

I used to be the shiz-nit, the bomb, hip, happening, cool beans….  You name the phrase, I desperately lived under the delusion I was it.   At one point I was known to believe that I was all that AND a bag of chips.

I used to stay up late to watch Friday Night Videos, than tape the videos on my VHS, playing them back repeatedly to memorize every dance move.

I used to tear out every Benetton Colors add, dreaming of the day I would be able to convince my mom to buy me just one of their over priced items.

I used to buy each BOP and Teen Beat magazine, then spend hours in the mirror attempting to perfect the latest Alyssa Milano hair craze or Madonna make-up magic.

I used to sing into my hair brush, knowing one day, not just ‘Only In My Dreams’, Donnie Wahlberg would find me and we would live happily ever after.  (Who am I kidding.  I still have that dream.)

Then I had kids and vowed that I would not relinquish my cool crown.  “From my cold dead hands!”  (Imagine me channeling Heston here.)

Yet, I found myself doing all the uncool, responsible things that used to make me roll my eyes and mumble ‘I’ll never make my kids….’

I set schedules, bedtimes, and limits.

I made rules about screen viewing, number of vegetable consumed, and days you can wear socks before they must be burned.

I’ve said things like: not on a school night, because I said so, and I’m the Mom, that’s why.

I’ve been gripped at, mumbled about, eye-rolled, whined at, and stomped away from.  I’ve probably ruined a few lives along the way.

Luckily, I’ve also…

Built fort mansions in the living room, kissed boo-boos and dished out countless band-aids, spent hours being the Guinea Pig – I mean customer – in the beauty salon, said yes to Ice Cream first, allowed multi-person sleep overs (I’m still recovering and that was 6 years ago), spent hours vacuuming sand out of my truck after park adventures, cheered at sporting events and music performances, celebrated successes, picked them up when they were down, and wiped away numerous tears, both theirs and mine from sadness as well as joy.

Now, they might not think I’m as cool as I still believe myself to be, but I think, when you weigh my cool category accomplishments against the uncool responsibilities, I believe come out on the winning side.

(Plus, I still memorize dances from the latest music videos and then bust a move when necessary!)

 

 

 

Dirty little secret

Every night, sometimes right after dinner, sometimes a little later, my kids will ask for dessert.  The answer is usually ‘no.’  Now, we’re not monsters, we do say yes about two times a week.  We’re not against a treat now and then, we are just trying to teach them self regulation, making healthy choices, and to take sweets in moderation.  At least that’s the reason I tell them.

It’s time I let you in on a dirty little secret of mine.  I am a closet candy and treat eater.

I tell my kids no about gorging themselves on sweet little chocolate candies.  No to sticky, gooey ice cream.  No to crumbly, crunchy cookies.  These things are all terrible for them.  All processed garbage.  All bad food choices.

Then, after I’ve told them no and sent them on their way… I break into my secret stash and sneak a little treat for myself.

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What?  Like you don’t have your own stash of ‘mine-and-only-mine’ candy somewhere in your abode.

Now, for those of you brave enough to admit that you’re a closet candier, you know the trickiest party of the whole operation is getting in  and out of the stash without being detected.  I’ve developed maneuvers that would make the Navy Seals jealous.

Wrapped candy is typically a no-no.  Too much noise.  M&Ms are a good, quick grab, but turning over the bag to shake out a few is risky.   Instead one must fish out a few at a time.  Ice Cream is very tricky since it includes sticky fingers and dishes to dispose of.  If you must, you have to wait until they are asleep, deep asleep.  They have incredible radar when it comes to the freezer door opening.  You can sometimes get away with cookies, if you have the TV volume high enough to cover the crunching and crewing.  But be warned, the minute you bite into one delicious Golden Oreo from the package you have hidden with the pots and pans, they come running to ask you a desperately important question.

Due to all of these potential land mines, one of my new go-to’s treasures has become frosting and animal crackers.  If you plant the animal crackers strategically (aka in an easily accessible container), you can open the pantry, grab one (who am I kidding, grab four), open the fridge, swipe them through the frosting can, consume, and go about your merry way completely undetected.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.  It seems like a lot of work just to sneak treats behind my kid’s backs.  Why don’t I just let them have dessert more often and give up the cloak and dagger routine?  Well that’s an easy to answer.  If I let them get their grubby little hands on the goods, there will be less for me.  Plus, I have another dirty little secret.

I don’t share well.