Archive | September, 2009

Laundry Mountain, Elevation 5 Feet

30 Sep

If you don’t know already, I detest laundry. It is by far the easiest chore: stick in the washer, then the dryer and hang up. Not too bad. For some reason, however, I treat it like the plague. (I’m pretty sure that I’m allergic to hangers…that’s my excuse) *wink*

Needless to say, I had four loads of laundry yesterday waiting to be folded. *boo, hiss* Around 7PM last night. I finally broke down and started to fold/hang up clothes that had been marinating on my dining room table for days. Just as I set up camp in my bedroom to tackle the mountain of clothes, Jaden plopped herself down beside me and started to hang up clothes. *grin* It’s a Christmas miracle! (Well, it’s not Christmas yet, but it felt like it)

For all of you parents out there who are eagerly awaiting the moment when your children volunteer to help out around the house, let me tell you that it is AMAZING! Now, I’m not going to brag too much because I do not want to jinx myself, but just know that I actually enjoyed folding laundry last night. It was a first and hopefully will soon become a routine. My little girl was suddenly not so little as we sat and discussed our day over wrinkled yet clean clothes.



29 Sep

*Groan* This morning dawned much too early. I blame it partly on the fact that I attempted a new sport yesterday, which always spells
M-u-s-c-l-e-A-c-h-e. It was hard to crawl out of bed at 6:30AM…not only because I had put out roots and didn’t want to get up, but also because I just couldn’t get up. My jello-jiggler arms had quite a time pulling the pillow off of my head & almost didn’t get the bed sheet past my feet. *the shame of it all* I know my bulging biceps may look impressive, *cough*, but they’re all bark and no bite. *woof, woof*

So, what put my puppies to shame? Kayaking. *collective “Ahhh!”*

I hadn’t planned on engaging in water sports yesterday morning, but when I go out to my dad’s house, nothing is certain. There is always some kind of adventure waiting to be had and today was no exception:

My dad turned 52 on the 23rd…which could only mean one thing: Birthday party. The family descended upon my dad’s house around 4:00PM, just in time to snatch up some delicious burgers, hot dogs, baked beans and other delectable goodies. We made short work of the savory selections in order to get to the good stuff: the cake.

Ahh…look at that smile. Did you detect the hint of mischief in it? No? Neither did the cake.

Aghhhh!” Poor cake. It didn’t stand a chance.

Once the cake was laid to rest, we all headed down to the pond to take my dad’s new kayak out for a test drive. Everyone took turns and thankfully managed to stay out of the water.
Watching my dad & Fisher paddle around the pond was adorable. Fisher was in love and would have happily stayed out there for the rest of the night.

Jordan was a natural. Check out his form…his poise. Ahh, it is a thing of beauty. *wink*

saddled up with Aunt Wren and quickly mastered the paddles.

I eventually made my way out onto the water and took a tour of the pond with Jordan. (…and I only hit one underwater stump! Impressive!)
The day closed on smiling faces. (Albeit, hot & sweaty ones)
Happy Birthday, Dad. It was a day to remember. :)

There is no Denny, only Zuul.

25 Sep
Our dog, Denny, is special. *cough*

He is just like every other dog you come across: affectionate but feisty. He’s learned to steer clear of Fisher, because Fisher will try to kill him with kindness. (i.e.: hug him to the brink of death) Jaden is his go to girl when he wants a stuffed animal to play with or a piece of paper to shred. (there’s always something lying on her bedroom floor) I give him all the love he needs…probably too much. And Jordan is his play thing…I mean, person.

I’m not sure what it is about Jordan that brings out Denny’s wild side, but Denny cannot help himself when he’s in close proximity to my poor husband. It’s almost comical to watch. Jordan will be at his desk working, and Denny will be on the other side of the room, quietly stalking his prey. He usually goes for the ankles first, but sometimes he’ll mix if up and spring for his toes. Mind you, it’s not a vicious attack; to Denny it’s just play. However, Jordan doesn’t see it this way. He’s tried squirting Denny with a water bottle when he “gets in the mood,” but Denny sees the water bottle as an added feature of the “game.”
Eventually, Jordan can no longer suffer the onslaught of attacks and fights back. A ten minutes battle of the wills ensues. Who will give up first? Denny? Jordan? (…it’s usually Jordan)
Today’s battle closed with Jordan victorious and Denny asleep at his feet. Poor Denny. He can’t help that he was born with an excess of energy.

Curling Iron Caper

24 Sep

I am prone to incident. It’s never anything major, but I tend to have minor accidents following me around almost 24/7. I once shut my ear in a door if that isn’t proof enough. That said, I’ve had more than a few curling iron burns…but none like the one I got this morning.

Sadly, my flat iron died this morning. I plugged it in, waited impatiently for a full minute, tentatively tested to see if it was hot and found it to be ice cold. Darn. Not wanting to go to work with funky hair, I whipped out my curling iron and plugged it in.

Just in case you haven’t caught on, curling irons are meant for curling hair…nothing else. So, it took a bit of…finesse to transform my curling iron into a straightening implement. Now, before I launch into the whole skin searing scene, I have to defend myself by saying that a flat iron is made in a way in which you can’t burn yourself with it unless you really try. Thus, I’m use to not having to worry about how close I get my hair wrangling products to my face. A few seconds later and one, rather loud explitive, I had branded my left cheek with the curling iron. *sigh*

Not only did my hair still look weird when I went to work this morning, I also had a large, red burn on my face. Nice.

It’s a good eyelash day

24 Sep

I am having a good eyelash day. That is something worth bragging about. (Okay, maybe not) Am I the only one that has this experience? Surely not. Some days my eyelashes just don’t want to cooperate. Even a generous coating of mascara can’t wrangle them in somedays. I don’t know about you, but when my eyelashes are pointing in every direction or are clumped together, my day seems a little off. (Crazy, I know) It’s kind of similar to a bad hair day. It you can’t get your hair to lay just right, you feel like every person you pass by is staring at you in disgust. We all know full and well that no one notices if your having a bad hair day. However, we find a way to put Jimminy Cricket on mute and spend the entire day sulking over our “bad” hair. The same goes for eyelashes. Darn you, rebellious hairs.
All that said, my eyelashes are looking fabulous today, if I do say so myself. *blink, blink*

Crazy Socks

22 Sep

There is one word that I cringe to hear come out of Fisher’s mouth. Crazy. This is the word that he uses to describe anything that is unsuitable or unbearable. He doesn’t like crazy shorts (i.e.: anything other than denim) and he absolutely hates crazy socks (i.e.: any socks that do not perfectly conform to his feet). Unfortunately, I hear this word a lot. I feel a touch of insanity coming on myself.

Much time has passed since I last purchased clothes for the kids. (I usually buy clothes in the spring and fall) You can imagine what happens to clothes over a six month period when being worn by two, young children. The pants get holes in them, the shirts get stained and the dryer inevitably eats their socks for dessert.

So here we are, at the end of summer wearing the dregs of spring. Thus Fisher has begun his new clothing campaign. (If he could write, I’m sure that there would be picket signs in my front yard) After several weeks of trying to explain how socks and pants aren’t crazy, I have given up and have started piecing together Jaden & Fisher’s fall clothes. I started off by picking up some new underwear and socks…ooo, ahhh. It’s all about having a good foundation. *wink* This morning, Fisher took out his new socks and undies for a test drive. You would have thought that it was Christmas morning.

Fisher: Are these for me?!
Raine: Yes, dear.
Fisher: I can wear them to school?! (Excitement building)
Raine: Of course, buddy.
Fisher:…and I can wear them all day?! (His voice getting higher with each word)
Raine: Yes, Fisher….ALL day.
Fisher: I can wear them under my shoes?! (Gasping in excitement)
Raine: *sigh* Yes.

He then spent the next ten minutes giggling with joy as he “ice skated” around the hardwood floors of our house. Who knew that new socks could be so exciting?

(Just wait until he realizes that he has to wear a uniform to school next year….no jeans allowed) *dum dum dum*

Something’s Fishy

22 Sep

I have a shadow. A Fisher-shaped shadow. It follows me wherever I go. (That has the perfect cadence to be a poem, if only I had the willpower to finish it)

In the morning I get up early to get the kids and myself ready for the day. Fisher is a morning person…Jaden is not. Oh the joy. In the mornings Jaden slinks about the house in a dazed stupor with a palanquin of blankets and stuffed animals trailing behind her. Fisher, on the other hand, springs out of bed like a gymnast late for his opening act. It is quite the sight. After rushing Jaden along, she & Jordan leave out the back door at the last minute to head to school. As the door closes behind them, Fisher sets out to hunt me down. He loves to be wherever I am and wants to get right in the middle of whatever I am doing. In the mornings, he hides under the covers of my bed as I change clothes and sits on the bathroom counter to watch me fix my hair. I could run laps around the house and he’d be perfectly content to follow along beside me. Sometimes he’ll mix things up a bit and pretend to be a dog and bark at me or a cat and rub up against me ankles as I get ready.

Fisher is adorable.

He has been like this since he was an infant, always eager to be close and involved. He’s not showing any signs of stopping, but I wonder how long I have before he wakes up and realizes that he’s a “man” and that “men” don’t need to be seen snuggling up to their mothers.