Archive for the ‘Children’ Category

No Trickin’……

October 29, 2011
The Original Monster Mash

Image via Wikipedia

I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE Halloween!  I’m glad my birthday is in the same month and not too far away from the Big Candy Day that I have often had Halloween birthday parties. Usually I trick my house out with some really cool decorations, do my pumpkin carving, and play my cd with Monster Mash, purple people eater, and such. This year, I  got my light-up signs in the my windows and my string of ghost lights up, though not in their usual place on my mantle,and the girls and I did get a few pumpkins carved, but that was all the trickin’ out I did this year.  And I think that’s why I’ve been slogging through this month.  I’m bummed….

This was confirmed by my friend, Momma Lime.  She said the same thing happened to her last year when she didn’t put up her Halloween decorations. And the 31st was a bust last year. The neighborhood gathering was ill-planned and uncoordinated, which for me, who had gotten my stuff up early and had been pumped all month waiting for the day, was a big disappointment(the kids didn’t care, but I did).  So, this year, it’s me, the Debbie Downer of Halloween Decor.  I think it’s because Halloween kicks off the decorating season in our house, where we regularly change our decorations from October through the new year. And we love to decorate; Halloween, Thanksgiving, and especially Christmas. Our kick-off was more like a stubbed toe this go around. To top off my sluggishness, it snowed today. Truly an Eeyore moment for me.

So, thank you Momma Lime for bringing me into the jack-o-lantern light about why I have to start the holiday season off right with my Halloween decorations up, to light the way into the new year. Getting my fall decorations and spirits ready to go for November and getting giddy about what December brings.

-a Mini-Boo from the Edge

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Pardon The Interruption….

April 19, 2011

Years ago, the children were ensconced at the table eating a snack-good time to head to the Head.  “Eat your snack. I’m going to take a shower, I’ll be out in 5 minutes. Do not disturb unless it’s an emergency.”  I ran into the bathroom, jumped in the shower,  and kicked it into gear to get my whole self clean in five minutes.  I was a pro from back in my boarding school days when five minutes was sometimes all the time we had, and then the hot water would run out. 

2 minutes in, the door bursts open.  “Mom is this purple?” It was Whirling Dervish holding up a skirt.

“REALLY?!  Did we forget that Mommy said “Do NOT disturb!”

“Uhhhhh.”

“Is someone concussed?”

“No.”

“Is someone bleeding? Does someone have a limb off?”

“No.  But Momma is this purple?”

“REALLY???!!! Please close the door on your way out.”

I guess I should be happy, she was outside the shower. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had gotten in there with me. Whirling liked to invade my personal space-a “close talker” a la Jerry Seinfeld.  Her usual M.O. was to wait until I was in the bathroom and then come in and step so close to me that she would be standing in my under garments. yes, IN, my underwear.  And it wasn’t as if she was coming to tell me the kitchen was on fire or anything.  She just wanted to chat.  Mind you she had absolutely NOTHING to say to me while I was not in the bathroom.  I guess her mind got rolling as soon as I sat down on the can.   I would have to politely ask her to back up out of my draws and out of the bathroom.  And off she would go, inevitably leaving the bathroom door wide open, leaving me fully exposed for all the world to see.  And she wasn’t the only one.  Her siblings were just as bad. I got asked all sorts of stuff in the water closet. Can I transform the Transformer back?  Momma, can you get the pony tail out of Barbie’s hair?  Mom, can you sign my permission slip?  Can you get this knot out of my sneaker? And so it went. For years.

My youngest is now 8, so I thought I was done with the interruptions.  They still do it from time to time, but for the most part, they stay out, at least until I turn the water off in the shower or flush the toilet to barge in. Some times tey wait until I have finished brushing my teeth to ask me a question or talk to me.  But no.  Now there’s a new interloper in our midst. Butter Face cometh.

My dog has become the Bathroom Bandit. It doesn’t matter what bathroom I’m in or what floor he’s on. He makes his  way to the bathroom heads on in.  He just opens the door all the way and waltzes right in.  He walks right up to me, looks up, as if to say, “Hey, whatcha doin’?” Then he sniffs my shoes, does his doggy circling ritual and then lays down on the rug. And stares.  I don’t know about y’all, but it’s hard to concentrate with the beast ogling me from below, peeping at me underneath my reading material.

I guess I should be thankful, he doesn’t ask me to deknot his bone.

Boy Logic…..

March 31, 2011

MiniMe in the MiniMan Cave

My 13 year-old son, MiniMe, has recently taken to spouting boy logic, his twist on things.  His utterings seem perfectly rational to him. Me, not so much.  Is  boy logic the definition of oxymoron? Absolutely. So, here was today’s little tidbit, after I told him his efforts at cleaning his room were less than stellar.  “But Mom,” he starts–I had to ask him to wait until I swallowed my coffee before sharing so that the coffee wouldn’t come out of my nose.  I start backing up in the kitchen as he’s walking up on me…..

Mom, it’s like a new car getting dirty for the first time. He smiles a wicked little grin, the wheels in that head turning…..

“Really, how’s that son?”

A new car is shiny, the wood grain dash is buffed and glowing, the carpet pristine.  Then the kids get in.  Juice boxes, baby puke, Cheerios, ice cream, muddy shoes, french fries, you know, kid gunk.

“uh,hunh.” I’m still backing up, nostrils flaring, trying not to laugh.

And then you get the car cleaned.  But is every really the same?  I mean REALLY? No more new car smell, the carpet’s forever stained, the windows are forever smudged with boogers and fingerprints. Clean as you might, there’s still dirt and french fries EVERYWHERE-“

“And soooooo….” The laughing has started and I can see where it’s going. 

Why bother?  I’m mean really, Mom!  That room’s had two other kids in there BEFORE me.  And me and Number1Son together at some point too! The new room smell is long gone.  Soooooooo looooong gone.

 Still laughing, tears welling.

He’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat, all proud of himself, “hunh, hunh, right? Right?  You know I’m right mom.”

Hmmmm. Well, he does have a point.  Boy logic might have some validity after all.  But I’ll never tell him that because his room looks and smells like a  dead goat exploded in there.  He’s 13, ‘nough said.

“Thank you son, for that morsel of wisdom.  Clean up your room, and for God’s sake and everyone else’s, open the windows. Yes, I know it’s 40 degrees outside, put some socks on, you’ll be alright.”

Mommy Logic wins out EVERY time.

-Logically Speaking at the Edge

Pinkified……..

March 30, 2011

Glamour Rayz is the essence of girly.  The pinker, shinier, the frillier, or sparklier(making up words, yes.), THE better. Whirling Dervish was once like her sister, and in fact started out über pinky with pink undies, pink socks, pink shoes, pink shirt, you get the idea. But now WD is girly in a funky sort of way, tom boy with pizzazz.  I, having been a tom boy growing up, and still am in a lot of ways, have had to get in touch with my inner Pink. Woo.

Believing that everyone should embrace pink the way she does, from time to time Glamour will strike, catching her victims unaware, inflicting her pinkness on anyone or anything in her path…..

The poor blue M&M had done nothing to deserve this. He didn’t stand a chance.

Last Sunday, she caught Butter Face.  He didn’t know what hit him.  After the carnage wrought by Glamour’s birthday party last weekend (see 8 Year Olds post, please), Big Daddy and I had parked it in the livingroom to continue our marathon of March Madness viewing.  Glamour skips by, down the hall to her room, then shoots back by on her way downstairs.  She gives me a quick, “Doot, duh, doot, doot, doo, hey Mom,” in her Mini Mouse voice. “Hey, chicken” I shoot back, not taking my eyes off the TV.

A few minutes later, Butter Face the Wonder Dog, comes sauntering down the hallway. I see a flash of pink out of the corner of my eye,  and my mouth drops open.  Big Daddy looks over, “No she didn’t.”

My poor dog.  The look on his face was one of utter disgust. He walked in and laid down as if to say, “WHY, why does she treat me so? Please put me out of my misery.”

So watch yourself, she may be lurking.  She might bat those eyelashes to draw you near. and Wham! You’ve been pinkified….

Condiments and Sauces, etc…..

March 27, 2011

Never mind keeping track of what people are allergic to or not in my house, I have to worry about who eats what condiments, sauce, yogurt,etc…. Pay attention, there will be a quiz at the end.

Big Daddy:  Hellman’s mayo only, Miracle whip is the devil’s food.  banana peppers, toasted bread-if eating bread, no blood on the plate with the beef, but will eat carpaccio.  American cheese over cheddar on the sandwich.  No couscous because, “it tastes like air.” eggs over pancakes.  Veggies,  veggies, and more veggies.  Meat, meat, and more meat.  fruit, some desserts, but not many. Tea.  No coffee unless its frou-frou.  Ranch dressing.

MiniMe: No salad dressing of any kind.  No condiments on the sandwich, BBQ sauce on everything else.  Lettuce, tomatoes only on sanwiches-not in salads.  Butter on sandwiches, no mayo. Orange juice.  plain milk makes him gag, scrambles eggs, never boiled. Oatmeal. Pancakes.  No fruit-on-the bottom yogurt-must be pre-blended.  Spinach, preferably creamed and most veggies. HAM! Shrimp. Loves sweet potatoes, but will eat white potatoes.  Prefers Alfredo sauce over tomato sauce, but will eat them mixed or separate, doesn’t care.  Previously didn’t like onions, not will eat them on a sandwich.  Will eat plain cabbage  and raw potatoes.  Gravy on the meat, but not the starch. Now likes spicy foods.  Motto: If not nailed down, it will be eaten.

Whirling Dervish: Nothing with a weird texture-No oatmeal, pudding, and only some smoothies. Baked potatoes, no sweet potatoes.  Meat! No fish other than how Grandpa Poppy makes it (fried).  Gluten-free diet.  Rice gives her headaches.  Boiled eggs, scrambled eggs, but favorite are fried but is not a breakfast eater. Milk.  Will eat deviled eggs without paprika.  No nuts, but likes peanut butter.  Prefers Alfredo sauce over tomato sauce, will eat pink sauce. White Bean Soup is favorite.  No shrimp.  Yogurt prefered from a tube, rather than a container.  Cheese, cheese, and more cheese. Corn in any form. No spinach, creamed or otherwise. Gravy on the starch, sometimes the meat. Beans.

Glamour Rayz:  The tangier the better.  Dill pickles by the jar.  Boiled eggs, but only the whites, but will eat deviled eggs.  Baked potato, but no skin on it. Makes her own pesto sauce.  No Alfredo sauce, but will eat tomato or Pink sauce. No crusts ont he sandwiches. Prefers chocolate milk.  Cheeseburgers plain.  Hot dogs with no bun.  Gravy on meat and starch.  Has a sweet tooth.  Syrup and powdered sugar on the waffles.  Likes spicy stuff.  No peas, will tolerate green beans.  Salad either plain or with Italian dressing depending on the mood.  Likes ice in all drinks.

Butter Face (Wonder Dog): Certain lins of dog treats give him bubbly guts. Shoes, but prefers the most smelly of them. Dead stuff from the yard.  Grass. Unattended coffe, but akes him jittery.  Butter (hence the name). Steals food, but prefers, fat, meat. Motto:  Please see MiniMe entry for reference.

And this is what I CAN remember…..Check please!

-Saucy at the Edge

8 Year Olds…..

March 27, 2011

Big Daddy’s  man cave is full of estrogen.  He’s been relegated to the livingroom to watch march madness and  has to side-step tissue paper and nail polish. He’s not happy but it’s Glamour Rayz birthday, so he’s taking one for the team.  A big one. It’s a spa party sleepover. Ten 8-year-old girls had hair done,  cucumber facials, hands and feet painted, with glow-in-the-dark polish no less. Luckily, since it was a spa party, I served veggies and fruit, along with the chicken on-a-stick. We diverged slightly with m&ms and cheese doodles, but hey they’re 8.

After cake, presents, and a great deal of screaming and giggling, the posse changed into the pjs and ambushed Big Daddy’s man cave with sleeping bags, stuffed animals, and a whole lot of pink. More pink that should ever be allowed in a man cave.  Big Daddy staggered out, “You could have warned me!” “I was going to, but they’re moving too fast. It’s the sugar,” I holler as I run down stairs to contain the madness.  We settled in to watch “Ramona and Beezus.” I’m thinking this is a good movie to hold their attention, so  dim the lights and I park it on the chaise with one of the girls, hoping to catch my breath……

Then Butter Face the Wonder dog comes in and unlike Big Daddy, he isn’t happy about the raucous in the man cave and is not trying to take one for the team.  He saunters over everyone lying on the floor and lies directly on my niece. He likes her sleeping bag. She is NOT pleased. I grab his collar and try to get him to lie on his dog bed behind the Big Daddy’s man chair.  His does his doggy circling thing, but then makes a bee line for my niece.  He has to be escorted from the room. Reset.

Things were going well and then there was some wigglin’ goin’ on down in front. Then there’s more.  I look and one of the girls has slithered into the bottom of her sleeping bags head first and is waving her hand out of that little hole where the zipper starts. And then she sticks her head out of the hole and smiles.  I would have told her to settle down, but I was too busy laughing because she looked like a TOTAL nut cheesing with her head sticking out of her pink camouflage sleeping bag (Pink camo is whole ‘nother blog topic for another day, but I digress).  I get the stink eye from the Pink Ladies for disturbing the movie. Meanwhile “Camo Girl” is still flapping like a bird down. “SHHHHHHHH, quiet down in front!” Order restored. Again.

There’s a scene in the movie where Ramona is talking to her childhood friend, now teenage crush, Henry.  At which point, the girl I’m sitting on the chaise with, who is a tom boy through and through, is the chillest kid on the earth and one of my favorite kids in the world, calmly says, “Sometimes girls get shy about talking to boys when they get older.”

Surprised and amused by the statement, I say,”Oh really, ya think so?”  She replies,”Yep, but they’re easy to talk to when they’re your boyfriend.”

I chuckle. “Really?” and jokingly ask, “You have a boyfriend?”

She nonchalantly replies, “Oh yeah, I have two.”  My jaw drops,” Two???!!!” I started laughing so hard with my mouth closed so as not to disturb the movie that I was shaking.

“Michael and David.  And I’m thinking about gettin’ another one.”  I busted out laughing to the dismay of the Pink Ladies.

Trying not to totally blow my cool, I replied, “well, don’t spread yourself too thin…..”

She shrugged, “hmm, maybe.” 

I’m out.

-Sufficiently Spa’d Out at the Edge

In The Cult…..

March 21, 2011

Not Amway

I admit it.  I’m in the Harry Potter cult.  I have read all fo the books three times and seen the movies countless ones(Thank you ABC Family for the marathons, I’m forever yours).  Granted, I am not on the Executive Board of the cult or anything. I didn’t dress up to attend the book releases and don’t dress up when going to the movies, though I do go to the first showings at midnight because I can’t wait until daylight. We have been to Alnwick Castle, the filming location for the first two films and stayed ont he hotel in Scotland where the series was finished (that wasn’t calculated, just coincidental. :))

Big Daddy and the superheroes talk about me bad.  And I deserve it, I do.  We went to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios Orlando.  You’d a thought I was a teenage girl at a Justin Bieber concert.  I had to let my family go ahead of me. I was verklempt, speechless.  I had goose bumps. I berated MiniMe for trying to buy Slytherin gear in the gift shop with a, “Uh no, you can’t buy that. Slytherin is bad, Gryffindor is good.”  To which, he responded, and rather loudly I might add, “Momma, you’re a nerd!”

I do love the story.  While they have seen the movies,  they have not read the books.  I tell my children that it’s not about the magic, the witches and wizards.  Those are just backdrops to a story about a boy who learns about friendship, loyalty, finding family where you don’t have one, finding courage and strength within, and believing in yourself.

They aren’t buyin’ it and still look at me like I need a little white jacket with the pretty buckles on the back. I am starting the series again.

The final film is coming out on July 15th.

I’ll be there at midnight.

Weapon of Mass Destruction…….

March 17, 2011

Butter Face

Cute isn’t he?  Don’t be fooled by the floppy ears, and the little eyebrows. This is Butter Face the Wonder Dog and he STINKS! We got him from the folks at Lucky Dog Animal Rescue (www.luckydoganimalrescue.org).  He got us, lookin’ all cute and cuddly.  He did all the adorable puppy things; licking the young superheroes on the nose, chasing the squeak toys, turning his head, and doing those doggy yoga stretches.  I walked out of the kitchen and left the butter on the counter.  Big mistake.  He came around the corner with butter on his chin. Soooooooo, so cute! And then he busted butt.

I knew dogs broke wind.  My best friend had great danes when we were growing up, so I was not new to the doggy gas thing.  But Butter Face was a whole ‘nother story.  My nose hair were singed and I felt light-headed.

People kept asking me if my dog got car sick.  Thankfully, he doesn’t. I’m not sure I could handle my dog barfing in the ride and my superheros really wouldn’t appreciate it either.  Imagine the mayhem that would ensue with the kids trying to jump ship and the dog hoppin’ around in the auto. What he does get while riding in the car is gas. Wicked, WICKED gas.  It is wrong on a whole bunch of levels.

Ya know it’s bad when the humans in the car stick their heads out of the window when Butter Face lets it rip.  He stands with his front paws on the storage compartment between the front seat, looking out the front window, his tongue wagging, leaning on me.  And then Blammo! He drops a bomb that could melt steel.

H-E-L-PUH MEEEEEEEE!  As I gasp for air, I have to slam down all four of the automatic window buttons as my children scratch on the glass trying to escape.  We all lean out the window, trying to inhale fresh air, hoping the toxic waste in the vehicle will dissipate before frostbite or heat stroke sets in depending on the season, before we can clear our lungs. I guess I should be thankful he’s not leaving these foul, malodorous clouds wafting through the house, but the vehicle is such a confined space that concentrates the offense exponentially. Daaaaayuuum!

I’m thinking we should loan him to the armed forces. He could work it like Snoopy, with some goggles and a scarf. Afterall, he is part beagle.  They could strap him on the under belly of a fighter jet and when the time comes, give him a doggy treat, and let him rip it like a crop duster. Rat-a-tat-tat-tat!  He could fall a small country in seconds. He would be the pride of the nation.

Well, maybe not the nation, but we at the Edge would certainly be proud of him.  Stinky bum and all.

Necessity Breeds…….

March 15, 2011

Chicken, what to do with the chicken? I’ve been saying this to myself for the past three days, knowing chicken was on the menu for tonight. I’m more of a beef and pork kinda gal. At one point I even stopped eating chicken altogether for a few years, because it just got too fleshy for me. But, since it is supposedly healthier than pork and beef, I started up again. But I digress. Back to this evening. So I went to Foodtv.com. for a new recipe. I was looking for something different and I figured Rachel Ray would have something good and fast, you know 30 minutes and all that jazz.

Honey Nut Chicken Sticks. Sounded interesting, different and I had some honey nut cereal for the coating, along with the rest of the required ingredients. Because the superhero posse is hungry all the time and they’re growing at the speed of light, I doubled the recipe, doubled the ingredients. Got to dredging, and dipping, and coating and ran out of coating with 3/4 of my chicken naked. And I don’t have all the ingredients to make the same coating. Hhmmmmm……..

The good thing is that my parents taught me how to cook, really cook. So I got to work, or as Big Daddy calls it, “my mad scientist mode”, making up a coating for my chicken out of what I had in the pantry. With Whirling Dervish and I on the gluten-free train, the wheels got to screeching and smokin’. Shazaam!

1/4 bag of Cool Ranch Doritos is it for coating number 2. Out came the meat pounder and those Doritos were crumbed in seconds and my stress level was a bit lower as well. But I still didn’t have enough for all my chicken. Whirling Dervish was helping me cook and looked at me liked I had lost a marble or two, and I said, ” Necessity breeds invention my dear.” She still looked puzzled. “Ya got to work with whatcha got, sister.”

With Whirling still eyeing me suspiciously, and in that same snack food vain, I went with microwave popcorn. Orville Rendenbacher to the rescue! I popped the corn, then threw it in food processor with some herbs and spices an a bit of olive oil. And voila, popcorn coating for my naked fowl. Salad and buttered leftover pasta rounded out the chicken tender buffet. Bring on the grub!

And the verdict? Cool Ranch Doritos won, followed up by Orville Redenbacher. Rachel Ray’s Honey Nut coating was good, but brought up the rear because the spice level was too high for the young superheros. Big Daddy and I will have to finish those off.

And so my invention, which I’m sure someone else came up with before, is a keeper. Superheros were sufficiently nourished and quite impressed with my on the spot creativity.

Final score: Edge one, chicken zero! Bring on da bird, baby!

Party of One……

February 16, 2011

She’s either walking ahead of the group or floatin’ along behind. When we’re out in public, not that I am not keeping track of my brood, but with that one in particular we have to keep an eye. For instance, My friend and I had taken our young superheros out on the mall of our nation’s capitol to one of the various events. We were walking back to the car, talking, enjoying the summer day, a along doing a visual headcount. One was not close by, it was Glamour Rayz. I looked ahead, no Glamour. Looked behind and there she was, swinging on one of the chains that is used to partition off grassy areas. She was sitting there, just a swinging, and a singing, not caring one bit that we had moved on. That’s my girl, Glamour, Party of One.

The other night, we were standing in line waiting to get tickets to a concert. We were in the line on the right, she was standing to my left. I got the tickets and backed away from the table. Glamour was so engrossed in the person standing in the other line, I thought she had decided that she was trading up and was going to go with that family. With a clap and call, she snapped out of her zone and I guess decided to join us. Glamour, party of one.

During the recent snow days, Glamour Rayz, Whirling Dervish, and Whirling’s best friend, McGillicuddy, decided to take a red wagon full of snowballs over to a friend’s house in preparation for an impending neighborhood snowball fight. Whirling was pulling the wagon along, trying to maneuver around the piles of shoveled snow, not quite understanding that the wagon goes where she goes, having a bit of difficulty. To compound the problem, Glamour stepped between Whirling and wagon, and got run over. Blammo, face plant in the snow.

Now one would think that being run over by a wagon would make Glamour more alert, and perhaps avoid getting in between Whirling and the wagon. Nope, not my Glamour Rayz. She did it not once, not twice, but three or four times, leaving body outlines all the way down the street. McGillicuddy’s mom, one of my girls, Red Lantern, was getting a migraine from yelling at them to get out of each others’ way. And so it went all the way to the neighbor’s house. Red Lantern needed a drink upon return.

I really should rent Glamour and her other siblings out for people to test their stress management or children rearing skills.

To be sure, Glamour Rayz is very bright, and handles her business when necessary. Secure in her own abilities, she just doesn’t feel the need to let everyone else know what she knows and doesn’t care either. An admirable trait for sure.

She’s also very shrewd. People are often fooled by Glamour’s petite stature, doe eyes and perceived aloofness. Add a little stubbornness , and some glitter(the shinier the better!) to the mix and poof! It’s a brown-eyed bedazzled diva! That’s Glamour Rayz!

I feel sorry for those who end up in her wake when she gets older. They’re doomed. But for now, I’ll take my Glamour girl, doin’ her own thang. One party at a time.


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