Grammie has arrived for a visit during her Spring Break. We are all being well fed, the laundry is done, the dishes are done (and put away...we get to play Scavenger Hunt for things like the cheese grater). Household chores are done so timely, the clothes are washed and put away on the same day that they were once on your back. This is not how my house normally works. I could get used to this. Kind of like having a cleaning fairy around the house.
Upon arrival, Grammie asked why we never go to the City when she comes. So we went to the City and enjoyed a day at the aquarium. LOVE the aquarium. As we were walking in, two Italian gentlemen informed us that "they have run out of fish". With their accents, that was one of the funniest things I have heard. They were trying to be funny, but put a little Tony Soprano spin on that line, and it becomes ten times as funny as intended. Needless to say, there were plenty of fish to be seen.
Half way into the day, my daughter raises her hands in astonishment, and says to me, "Where is YOUR MOTHER?" She did not ask, "Where is Grammie?" Apparently, when Grammie is in trouble for losing the group, she becomes MY MOTHER. My daughter continued, "Why does she do that?" I answered simply, "Because she can."
Grammie went to eat lunch with our Little Boo at school. On Sunday night, Grammie asked which of the kids would like to invite her to eat lunch with them. Dead D-E-A-D silence. Then finally, the Pipper responded, "He would." So Grammie went to each lunch with her grandson. And he got to pick a friend to sit with them.
Grammie did not go eat lunch with Pipper. Pipper finally got up the courage to explain to Grammie that having an adult come eat lunch with you in 3rd Grade is super, super embarrassing. "Painful." And again, I was asked, "Why does YOUR MOTHER want to come eat lunch with me?" That phrase, YOUR MOTHER, makes me smile. Not something I expected out of my eight year-old daughter. But when raising kids, expect the unexpected.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
Where Is My Blue Ball?
Once very 12 months we are asked to bowl for charity. And we gladly accept because it happens to be for the neighbors and everyone knows we have the BEST neighbors in the whole world. They are fun and they accept us for the crazy people that we are. No qualms. (At least that I know of.)
So last weekend we grabbed our bowling bag from the basement and aspired to reach a score of at least 100 pins. You see, we have our own balls, shoes, and sports-looking bowling bag. Several years ago, my brother-in-law and sister-in-law found the perfect Christmas gift for the brother and his wife who had everything, but their own bowling equipment. Ta-da! We are equipped.
It was a dark and stormy night. Perfect night for strobe lights, bad 80's hair band music, pitchers of Miller Lite, and glow-in-the-dark bowling for dollars. And we knocked down some big 'uns. Yah...
About half way into the night, my neighbor friend, returns from the bathroom with a bowling shoe flapping. On her return, she blew a shoe. The sole was definitely loose. We all laughed and made fun of her trying to bowl with a broken shoe.
About three-quarters of the way into the night, I made a trip to the restroom. And on my way, I stepped on something sticky and ka-boom! My shoe started flapping. I had to pee so bad so I continued into the restroom and laughed hysterically, by myself, at the strange coincidence of the two Sue's with flapping bowling shoes. It was one of those moments where you SERIOUSLY look for the hidden camera.
I shared the news of my appendage with the gang and we all laughed. I chucked a few balls down the lane, with my handicap. It was ugly. My game was gone. So I took off my shoes and called it quits. We wrapped up the night and went to put our balls away. Only guess what?!?! My ball was gone. My shiny blue ball was gone. And it even has my name on it.
I kept asking people if they accidentally put my blue ball in their bag. Then Sue's hubby asked, "Was it schweddy?" Obvious play on the Saturday Night Live Skit, Schweddy's Balls. I just love my schweddy blue bowling ball. It all went into the gutter from there.
Good news! The bowling alley called to report they did indeed find my schweddy blue bowling ball. So next year, when I get the call to bowl for charity, I will be ready. My blue ball has been located. And it is no longer schweddy.
So last weekend we grabbed our bowling bag from the basement and aspired to reach a score of at least 100 pins. You see, we have our own balls, shoes, and sports-looking bowling bag. Several years ago, my brother-in-law and sister-in-law found the perfect Christmas gift for the brother and his wife who had everything, but their own bowling equipment. Ta-da! We are equipped.
It was a dark and stormy night. Perfect night for strobe lights, bad 80's hair band music, pitchers of Miller Lite, and glow-in-the-dark bowling for dollars. And we knocked down some big 'uns. Yah...
About half way into the night, my neighbor friend, returns from the bathroom with a bowling shoe flapping. On her return, she blew a shoe. The sole was definitely loose. We all laughed and made fun of her trying to bowl with a broken shoe.
About three-quarters of the way into the night, I made a trip to the restroom. And on my way, I stepped on something sticky and ka-boom! My shoe started flapping. I had to pee so bad so I continued into the restroom and laughed hysterically, by myself, at the strange coincidence of the two Sue's with flapping bowling shoes. It was one of those moments where you SERIOUSLY look for the hidden camera.
I shared the news of my appendage with the gang and we all laughed. I chucked a few balls down the lane, with my handicap. It was ugly. My game was gone. So I took off my shoes and called it quits. We wrapped up the night and went to put our balls away. Only guess what?!?! My ball was gone. My shiny blue ball was gone. And it even has my name on it.
I kept asking people if they accidentally put my blue ball in their bag. Then Sue's hubby asked, "Was it schweddy?" Obvious play on the Saturday Night Live Skit, Schweddy's Balls. I just love my schweddy blue bowling ball. It all went into the gutter from there.
Good news! The bowling alley called to report they did indeed find my schweddy blue bowling ball. So next year, when I get the call to bowl for charity, I will be ready. My blue ball has been located. And it is no longer schweddy.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Dancing with Dad & Birthday Bowl-A-Rama
As tradition has it, a group of dad's and daughters, meet each February for the Daddy-Daughter Dance. This year, our darling diva dictated what her hair would look like. And was glittered from head to toe. But most importantly, she picked out her father's outfit so it would match HER dress. Por supuesto...(of course).
She's the most beautiful daughter and she radiates a room with her smile. She's going to be something very special in her adult life. She's an old, old soul. Definitely thinking of others before herself, in most situations. And an artsy-fartsy kind of girl. Reminds me of my sister at her age. And it is all about fashion...
After she was primped, we had a little time so she decided we should take some pics that she could hang in her locker at school, with the family dog, Dewey.
Dewey the Bouncing Dog is very loved
Princess ready for The Ball
 |
| Daddy and Daughter Duo |
He wouldn't let me snap any photos of JUST HIM---
This is the best one taken. BOO!
But I did capture a lot of good video.
Happy Birthday Little Boo!
It is no fun until someone is wearing cake.
And belly giggling.
Candles and .... smoke!
Mission Bowling Birthday Party: Success. He was surrounded by his best buddies and classmates. And we were thankful for Amber, a great party hostess. Nice to sit back, relax, and enjoy your child's party.
Our little guy is the most kind, appreciative, and thoughtful son. He makes us proud in every way. Happy Birthday Little Boo --- we love you! So much to look forward to. But for now, we are just enjoying your precious smile and belly giggles.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Pinewood Derby --- & Snowzilla, Snowpalooza, Snowmageddon, Blizzaster, etc
Wow! And I'll say it backwards. Wow! The Bears did not get to go to the Big Game. In other news...
After much warning --- We had some wind and snow this week. After listening to the winds gust all night, we awoke to this in front of our garage. Drifts worthy of a little bit of news coverage. And two days off of school. (Picture me telecommuting with a husband, two kids, two neighbor kids, and a barking dog providing assistance.)
And out our basement window...we saw this. Note: The deck sits 8 feet off the ground.
So the Big D got out the Binford 6000 model snowblower (yes...Tool Time--Tim Allen reference) and plowed us out. You can see the snow caves that the kids made. But they had to dig quick because our temps dropped to below zero. And they were ff--ff--freezing.
In other news, our boy raced his "Stinger" car in the Pinewood Derby last weekend. In his Tiger Cub Den, he came in 4th out of 4 but we reminded him, "Someone has to win. And someone has to come in last. The important thing is that you are in the race and that you have fun." Nostalgic, isn't it. Seriously, this is where you start to sound like your parents by providing advice that has been handed down for generations.
And his Den had the fastest car in the whole Derby. Actually, his best buddy had the fastest car recorded in all the years that his Pack has done the Derby. But nonetheless, it was a lesson in life. He and Dad had a blast making the car. And while trying to fix a wheel the night before, the wheel broke off of the car. So with a fast repair, it was raceable. And it was a VERY close race. Look for the yellow & black car in the video below. You can see how much fun they had racing. 3---2---1---GO!
After much warning --- We had some wind and snow this week. After listening to the winds gust all night, we awoke to this in front of our garage. Drifts worthy of a little bit of news coverage. And two days off of school. (Picture me telecommuting with a husband, two kids, two neighbor kids, and a barking dog providing assistance.)
And out our basement window...we saw this. Note: The deck sits 8 feet off the ground.
So the Big D got out the Binford 6000 model snowblower (yes...Tool Time--Tim Allen reference) and plowed us out. You can see the snow caves that the kids made. But they had to dig quick because our temps dropped to below zero. And they were ff--ff--freezing.
In other news, our boy raced his "Stinger" car in the Pinewood Derby last weekend. In his Tiger Cub Den, he came in 4th out of 4 but we reminded him, "Someone has to win. And someone has to come in last. The important thing is that you are in the race and that you have fun." Nostalgic, isn't it. Seriously, this is where you start to sound like your parents by providing advice that has been handed down for generations.
And his Den had the fastest car in the whole Derby. Actually, his best buddy had the fastest car recorded in all the years that his Pack has done the Derby. But nonetheless, it was a lesson in life. He and Dad had a blast making the car. And while trying to fix a wheel the night before, the wheel broke off of the car. So with a fast repair, it was raceable. And it was a VERY close race. Look for the yellow & black car in the video below. You can see how much fun they had racing. 3---2---1---GO!
Best Friends--Cutest Tiger Cubs
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Go Bears! And Whoever Favre is Playing for This Year
GO BEARS! (thus the beautiful blog text & background colors) Football excitement peaked this week in Chicagoland. The Bears and Packers are playing and three of our family members are rooting for the Chicago Bears. Well, our daughter thinks the Packers colors are better, but that is only for the purpose of rebellion. She is a Bears fan, at heart.
The boy roots for whoever Favre is playing for this year. He has a rainbow collection of Favre jerseys in his closet. And this has turned him into a Vikings fan. (I do like the Vikings colors) But today, I reminded him that the Vikings are not going to the Super Bowl. The Bears are! So today, he is rooting for da Bears.
We are watching the game and the little guy has his Nerf ball tucked under his arm. He is our instant replay, live, in the center of the living room. Much more entertaining than the actual game. Although the things that come out of the Big D's mouth, as usual, are equally entertaining. He just called for Cutler to be replaced by the local high school quarterback.
We've been cursing Canada for sending their arctic air our way. The kids and their friends and I escaped last weekend for a romp at the indoor water park. Nothing like watching them burn energy, while escaping into a chick book. It is very relaxing for me. Even with four kids in tow. They are awesome kids that I can take, literally, ANYWHERE. Symphony, Opera...well, I think I'll pass on that one. But they really do know how to behave in public.
The Big D and I have been selling Piper's Girl Scout cookies. At work. And she managed to get her buns out on the street this morning. She sold five boxes. In this day and age, I seriously don't want her going door to door. So that means we get to be honorary Girl Scouts for two weeks. And I have to admit that I considered ordering a case of Thin Mints under a pseudo-name (Edith Smith) so I can deliver them to a secret hiding place in the garage freezer.
But I can't do that. I quit eating all sugar and "bad" carbs three weeks ago. I have been focusing on getting 8 servings of fruits and veggies every day. Have you ever tried that? It doesn't leave room to eat much more. I'm stuffed constantly. But stuffed with food that tastes great and provides nutrition. This is where having my mother, for a mother, growing up, was GREAT. She didn't buy snack foods. Our snacks consisted of frozen fresh fruit and pickles & cheese on crackers. No chips, pop, or other ready-to-eat items wrapped in plastic. I'm back to my roots. And I'm already 10 pounds lighter and feeling like I can keep up with these rugrats.
And I'm going to need that energy. In May, I'm doing my second annual triathlon. 20 laps in the pool...yah, I know. I could do that in my sleep. (This is where those four hour per day practices become a life skill, worthy of the childhood pain.) Five miles on a spinner bike. No problem. But 3 miles running around the local park. That is my weakness. And that is the reason I must train for this blasted thing. It gets my butt off the couch and outside. And Dewey the Bouncing Dog is thankful for that. He LOVES (LOVES!) to go for wogs. (not a typo)
Wogging is an art. You run until you feel like you are going to throw up. Then you walk. Lather, Rinse, Repeat. I don't jog. I wog.
By the time you read this, I hope the Bears are headed for the Super Bowl. And if The Pack wins, well sheds some tears for us. Any Given Sunday. And we are used to saying, "Next Year". Cuz we are Cub fans too...
GO BEARS!
The boy roots for whoever Favre is playing for this year. He has a rainbow collection of Favre jerseys in his closet. And this has turned him into a Vikings fan. (I do like the Vikings colors) But today, I reminded him that the Vikings are not going to the Super Bowl. The Bears are! So today, he is rooting for da Bears.
We are watching the game and the little guy has his Nerf ball tucked under his arm. He is our instant replay, live, in the center of the living room. Much more entertaining than the actual game. Although the things that come out of the Big D's mouth, as usual, are equally entertaining. He just called for Cutler to be replaced by the local high school quarterback.
We've been cursing Canada for sending their arctic air our way. The kids and their friends and I escaped last weekend for a romp at the indoor water park. Nothing like watching them burn energy, while escaping into a chick book. It is very relaxing for me. Even with four kids in tow. They are awesome kids that I can take, literally, ANYWHERE. Symphony, Opera...well, I think I'll pass on that one. But they really do know how to behave in public.
The Big D and I have been selling Piper's Girl Scout cookies. At work. And she managed to get her buns out on the street this morning. She sold five boxes. In this day and age, I seriously don't want her going door to door. So that means we get to be honorary Girl Scouts for two weeks. And I have to admit that I considered ordering a case of Thin Mints under a pseudo-name (Edith Smith) so I can deliver them to a secret hiding place in the garage freezer.
But I can't do that. I quit eating all sugar and "bad" carbs three weeks ago. I have been focusing on getting 8 servings of fruits and veggies every day. Have you ever tried that? It doesn't leave room to eat much more. I'm stuffed constantly. But stuffed with food that tastes great and provides nutrition. This is where having my mother, for a mother, growing up, was GREAT. She didn't buy snack foods. Our snacks consisted of frozen fresh fruit and pickles & cheese on crackers. No chips, pop, or other ready-to-eat items wrapped in plastic. I'm back to my roots. And I'm already 10 pounds lighter and feeling like I can keep up with these rugrats.
And I'm going to need that energy. In May, I'm doing my second annual triathlon. 20 laps in the pool...yah, I know. I could do that in my sleep. (This is where those four hour per day practices become a life skill, worthy of the childhood pain.) Five miles on a spinner bike. No problem. But 3 miles running around the local park. That is my weakness. And that is the reason I must train for this blasted thing. It gets my butt off the couch and outside. And Dewey the Bouncing Dog is thankful for that. He LOVES (LOVES!) to go for wogs. (not a typo)
Wogging is an art. You run until you feel like you are going to throw up. Then you walk. Lather, Rinse, Repeat. I don't jog. I wog.
By the time you read this, I hope the Bears are headed for the Super Bowl. And if The Pack wins, well sheds some tears for us. Any Given Sunday. And we are used to saying, "Next Year". Cuz we are Cub fans too...
GO BEARS!
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