Robin's Random Snippets and Loose Thoughts

Halloween: Part II

2007-11-06T22:51:00.000-05:00

That's her in the middle with the pony tails. This isn't the best picture. I've got some others, but they're still in the new camera and I don't have a dock for it yet. More to come.

Meanwhile, guess what we got in our treat bags at about 9:00 a.m. the day after Halloween?

Amoxicillin.

3 out of 4 ears are infected...again. It's all good though, she IS in the medical field after all.

Halloween: Part I

2007-11-03T20:47:00.000-05:00

Pretty cute hey? Lesson learned though, do not let the boy take his fangs to school. Or at least, buy him 2 sets. He lost the first one and I found myself doing a Target run at 5:15 on Halloween night. I do NOT recommend it. There were no fangs to be had anyway (naturally). Then...wonder of wonders, 2 days later I found his school trick or treat bag and someone had actually given him fangs. Grrrrrr.

Up next, my five year old veterinarian.

Robin

Spending my time killing trees

2007-09-27T09:21:00.000-05:00

Not blogging lately. Big report due at work. A narrative justification for my existence. It's currently 2,000 pages long and takes up 4-3 inch binders. I exist...a lot, apparently!

September is almost over!!!!

Robin

For one brief shining moment...

2007-09-11T20:46:00.000-05:00

I've said before that I am not crafty. I am not patient. Anything I try to do of an artistic bent turns into a hoary black mess with glue everywhere. There is usually swearing involved. I do not scrapbook (and when exactly did Gen X-ers decide that word should be a verb?).

What I can do, sometimes passably well, is pay attention. Lots of people hate the Christmas/Holiday season. I do too...sometimes. Honestly though, I really hate the back-to-school season most of all. I fear change. I hate feeling like a hamster in a wheel all the time. I don't want that to sound like complaining, call it merely an observation. That said, this evening, we had a moment that I think I'm probably going to remember for pretty much ever.

When we started, I had a feeling like maybe I shouldn't even try today. We added a layer of CCD frosting to the Weekly Activities Cake. It was 8:00. I wanted to absolutely positively get them into bed by 8:30. But...we had to do our spelling words. I'd promised to finish the Halloween chapter of Harry Potter #1 (there are troll boogers...we've been waiting for the troll boogers!) It was go time.

My 7 year old sat next to me, like he always does. My daughter the squirel draped herself on the other side hanging upside down with her feet resting on my shoulder (what can I do...it's kind of how she sits). She ended up sitting next to her dad in the recliner so he could keep her still. First, we did our spelling words. He did pretty well. 6 out of 8 and we've still got a few days before the quiz. Then I read the rest of our chapter. As expected, the troll boogers were a huge hit and even made my daughter sit upright like a normal human, for once. I was asking my son if he remembered why Harry and Ron didn't like Hermione at first ("she was bossy") and what she did to make them like her ("kept 'em out of trouble with the teachers...but you're not supposed to lie!")

Quietly at first, my daughter started singing a song she's learned this week about an alligator and some monkeys in a tree. She remembered every word and intricate gesture. It's a song I'd never heard before tonight. Then she started on a silly song called tooty-ta. My son knows that one so they did it together. Then, he realized she was REALLY silly, so he sat down next to me again and watched her finish. By the time she did, we all had laughing tears streaming down our faces. We stood up and clapped. She's going to perform again at her Open House (which I have to miss...but Daddy's going so it's all good)

They went upstairs. They brushed their teeth without me asking and went straight to bed.

I should have gotten a camera or my camcorder. But, if I had, I probably would have missed it (remember, I'm not patient or crafty).

It was a good day.

Robin

Frick and Frack on the Night Before School Starts

2007-09-03T22:51:00.001-05:00

Frick was a basket case. He always is. He cried coming off the bus on the last day of school because he was going to miss his teacher. He cried tonight because he said he was nervous. What if there are bullies? What if he can't find his room. Frick hangs on pretty tight. He's like his mother that way. We talked him down. Showed him the yearbook picture so he'd recognize his new teacher (bad mommy...we went on vacation the night of Meet the Teacher...I blame Frick's father...it's his role after all). Frick is sweet and sensitive and his new teacher is about to experience how great a kid he is (I'm his mom...this is my role).

***short attention span break in, Anderson Cooper is picking on Joan Rivers 'cuz her face is too tight! Original, cutting edge stuff AC!***

Oh, Frick. I'm hoping he has a good day. I think he's going to be great.

Frack.

I can't fully explain the experience with just words. But...imagine the parental handling and pretzel twisting we were doing with Frick. Meanwhile, overlaying it all is Frack. She is flitting...and I MEAN flitting...(What's with me and my compulsion to use elipses AND parentheticals? Oh well...it is my way). Flitting around the house with her newly acquired Hello Kitty backpack (See earlier post. I lost the 5 lbs too!) She is trying to stuff every pencil, crayon and scrap of paper in the house into it. She is squealing in the background during the aforementioned intervention about her lunch. (Mind you, this is 1/2 day kindergarten. She eats at home. I hadn't the heart to tell her). "Gotta have an apple! Ha! That's not an apple. That's a PEAR! Silly pear. Ooooh...jello!" We hear the sound of crushed ice spilling across the vinyl tile floor from the dispenser. "I gotta fill my cup!"

The good news is, I'm working first thing in the a.m. so Father of Frick/Frack is getting him to school. I told him good luck breaking it to Frack that she can't take the newly packed and matching Hello Kitty lunch box w/ her 'cuz she won't need it. He's gonna be in truhbul!!!!

And this is how we roll. I hope to have pictures soon.

Tuesday Afternoon

2007-08-14T11:17:00.000-05:00

I need to figure out how to upload audio files to my blog. I just want the whole world to hear the conversations I've been having this summer. Or at least, when I'm seventy-hundred, I want to listen to them.

On discussing w/ the 4 year old what to make for lunch...

Me: What do you want to eat?

She: Uh...chicken noodle soup.

Me: Sounds like a plan.

She: Cuz I gotta sore froat. It's vewwy vewwy sick. That will make it feel better.

Me: Ok.

She: And I gotta get doggie slippers.

Me: Doggie slippers?

She: Yeah. For Christmas. And I need ta get a new doll house cuz my doll house broke. Blah. Blah. Blah.

Me: We'll make a list.

She: What's gravity again?

I kid you not.

Robin

P.S.

2007-08-10T11:08:00.000-05:00

Here's where I am on my back-to-school list:

1. Finish reupholstering chairs (um...1 down, 5 to go)
2. lose 5 more pounds (4 more to go...yay me!)
3. teach 7 year old how to read (he read Rat can tap dog. Wag, wag, wag!)
4. teach 5 year old how to read (She finds me tedious and boring. Also headache inducing.)
5. Find Hello Kitty back pack (grandma's on it)
6. Find 4 pairs of tennis shoes (1 velcro for each kid, 1 lace-up for each kid) (DONE! Plus saddle shoes, and van knock offs)
7. Write 45K words of latest manuscript (HA! HA HA HA HA HAHAHA!!!!)

Not bad!

Robin

Cutie Patooties

2007-07-29T18:26:00.000-05:00

It works for me...

2007-07-28T11:42:00.000-05:00

Cat. Rat. Cat sat. Rat sat. Cat sat, sat, sat. Rat sat, sat, sat. Fat cat. Fat rat.

And so...we have read our first book courtesy of Hooked on Phonics.

The Tooth Bunny (a/k/a Easter Fairy)

2007-04-16T10:16:00.000-05:00

Well, we finally got our gift-giving "perfect storm." The six year old lost his first tooth on Easter Eve. We had The Bunny and The Fairy on the same night!

His take: Hmmm...maybe they'll fight. I think the Tooth Fairy will win!

He lost his second tooth the next day (Easter Sunday). His total haul for the event was in the neighborhood of $20! Always a good plan to lose a tooth in the middle of a party with all grandparents in attendance. Score!

On a related note, the boy has finally figured out how to play the Head Game his little sister is so good at. (See previous post about how she feeds in to his hypchondria). Well, last night we were watching the new Charlotte's Webb movie (cute...but I still hate spiders and would have squashed Charlotte and shrieked like a girl...all those spindly legs!). He says to the four year old...

He: Hmmm. I like Wilbur. I like Wilbur on bread with mustard. Mom, pack me a Wilbur sandwhich for lunch tomorrow!

She: Waaaaaaaaah!

He: What are we having for dinner again?

Me: {muffled through my hand} Pork chops.

He: Mmmmmmmm. Wilbur chops.

She: Waaaaaaaaahhh {big tears}

Astronomy for Dummies (or at least very short people)

2007-03-10T22:27:00.000-05:00

I feel like the worst blogger ever. No wonder it never remembers me on this computer. I don't call. I don't write. I breeze in and out whenever it's convenient for me.

Anyway.

Today was jam-packed. We took the kids to the planetarium (the six year old is turning into a bit of a science nut). They put on a little show about the night sky in the ampitheatre. It was great 'cuz they're too young to really understand that it was a screen up there and not the actual sky. I know my daughter was trying to figure out how the ceiling opened up, the sun disappeared and yet we weren't cold or...um..dead. It was all fine and good except she still totally doesn't trust me since I took her into the Tree of Life at Disney and spiders dropped down from the sky. Me = worst mommy ever!

Thankfully, they both loved it. My husband, of course, fell asleep half way through Orion and snored his way back to Ursa Major. Typical.

But, we got to ride bikes when we got home! I warned them both 30 times to stay out of the dirt rivers along the curb. They did not listen.

THEN, I found a cheap globe at Target because the 4 year old seems interested in geography. When we got it home, she wanted to know two things and two things only. Where is China and where is Milwaukee?

Duh.

Robin

The Big Lizard of '07 ....oh and Happy Valentine's Day

2007-02-14T10:35:00.000-05:00

I'm baaaaaack!!!!!

Blogger hated me for weeks. It wasn't that I forgot or stopped caring. Blogger has been rejecting me for weeks (and I did a whole post about how I was feeling rejected by it and the irs...they won't accept my e-filing for technical reasons...but blogger rejected it and kept telling me it didn't remember me on this computer...harsh! Am I not pretty enough, I used a curling iron and put on my skinny pants and everything! Not witty enough?)

Anyway...it's Valentine's Day and everyone loves me again.

So, how's the weather out there? We're snowed in. For TWO days! The kids are literally starting to tear each other apart. Out of love. That, and my daughter keeps going to the window and asking, "Mom, where's the Big Lizard? I don't see the Big Lizard. Can it get in my bedroom?"

Had no idea what she meant 'til it dawned on me she'd been hearing us say a blizzard was coming. Can you imagine? She handled it pretty well, but in adult world, what if say the President or someone came on the news and said a Big Lizard was coming. Yeah...she handled it waaay better than I would have.

Robin

Test

2007-02-14T10:34:00.000-05:00

This is a test. Do not change your station. New bloggy goodness will be available shortly.

Bad Bedside Manner

2007-01-15T13:23:00.001-05:00

Well...we've got the ear infecta trifecta going on here. 3 out of 4 ears are plugged. Must be back to school time!

Here's the thing. My son is a 6 year old hypochondriac. He comes by it honestly, but it's an issue. Sometimes his little sister is loving and supportive. Sometimes...not so much.

I found some OTC ear drops that are supposed to relieve ear pain associated with infections. So, I loaded him up. A few minutes later, this is what I overhear (I figure about 3 minutes after I put the stuff in, it probably ran out.)

He says: Hmm. This stuff feels kind of funny. I think it's...I think maybe it's running down my ear.

She says: Just don't talk about it.

He says: But I think...I think it's running back in my ear.

She says: Hmmm. Well. I fink maybe you're gonna hafta go to the doctor.

He says: Could it get in my brain?

She says: Hmm. Yeah. I fink, actually you're gonna hafta go to the doctor. Sorry. They're gonna hafta cut you open and take out your brains.

He says: For real?

She says: I fink so. Sorry.

He says: MOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

All We Want for X-mas

2006-12-20T10:27:00.000-05:00

We have a new, exciting devlopment. The six year old has a very loose tooth. It could go any day. I am sure I will cry like a baby when it does. Just the other day, we were watching the video of when he was 7 months old and "helping" his Dad put up the wooden baby gates at the old house. He was drooling all over the place while he sat with his toy hammer. That tooth was a little white nubbin--his first one-- and we couldn't get him to show it to us. Now it's about to fall out.

Here's the thing. Like I said, it'll go any day now. We're shooting for X-mas eve. Can you imagine? Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy ON THE SAME NIGHT!!! It would be fabulous!

Stay tuned.

Robin

These Were the Runners Up

2006-12-12T22:53:00.000-05:00

These were pretty close too. I especially like the one on top. That's the essence of my daughter. Perfect hair, goofy grin and scabby knees.

Ok...Here's the Money Shot

2006-12-12T22:49:00.000-05:00

This is the one that went in the card. It was the Perfect Storm of mommy photography.

Christmas Miracles

2006-12-10T19:32:00.000-05:00

Turns out, it doesn't take much.

Miracle #1: I took the BEST photo of the kids for our X-mas card. I don't know how it happened. Normally, it's impossible to get them to look in the same direction at the same time (much less at the camera). One of them usually has red eyes. One of them refuses to smile. But...I dunno. This year, I didn't make a huge deal out of it (other than going out special to buy my daughter the perfect plaid flannel nightgown...I blew out her hair and sat on her to get the headband in right). Anyway, they crawled under the tree and were PERFECT!!!!!!! I sent out a dozen more cards than I usually do.

Miracle #2: Ok, this one's not so much a miracle as it is the cutest story ever!!! My son had his Santa Shop at school. I sent him with $20 so he could buy gifts for all of us. Dad got a fat pencil that says "Superdad." (He got the matching fat pen last year.) I got a pink heart necklace and matching earrings. His sister got a pink choker inside a pink flip-flop case. The sweetest part was he whispered to me when she was opening it. "Mom, I looked and looked for horses, but they didn't have anything with horses for her." He's the sweetest boy ever. His sister is a horse freak. I cried.

Of course, being who she is, two seconds later, she opened up the flip-flop and asked "How come there's no horse?"

Robin

How to Cook your Thanksgiving Turkey...

2006-11-20T16:06:00.000-05:00

The four year old was asked to contribute to a cookbook for her preschool class. Each student was asked how their Moms prepare turkey, mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie. Apparently, this is my recipe:

Turkey: She just puts sugar in it and a little salt. And she puts sticks in it. Then we put on our turkey decorations. We just have one turkey. She cooks it in the oven. After we pull the sticks out, we put in the bones.

Mashed Potatoes: Put a little salt and mashed potatoes in it. Actually, mashed potatoes are not my favorite food. But my brother likes it and my Mom and Dad.

Pumpkin Pie: Just put cream on it and put the pumpkin thing on it and cook it for 15 minutes and then we got to decorate it with cream and sprinkles. And that's how you make pumpkin pie.

Special Note: My Dad just smashed our pumpkins. 'Cuz it's not Halloween anymore.

Any questions?

20 Years + 10 Days

2006-10-07T14:42:00.000-05:00

Ok, so here we are. Now techically, this wasn't our first date. This was prom '88. And for the record, I TOTALLY stand behind this look for me (relative to the era, I mean :) I loooooved that dress. The hair, well, a bit big yes, but what else do you wear with gold?

Anyway, happy anniverary!

Robin

Fair Warning

2006-10-04T13:11:00.000-05:00

Ok, so now I have a scanner and I know how to use it. My husband I have just passed the 20th anniversary of our first date. I have pictures. There was gold lame (which is supposed to be la-may, but I don't know how to do that little symbol from this toolbar), there was big hair, we weighed less than 200 lbs between us.

You've been warned. To be continued...

Robin

4

2006-09-24T22:18:00.000-05:00

From the beginning, you did things your way. I'd gone through so much trouble to have your brother, I always thought I'd have to do the same thing to have you. But...there you were. Easy peasy, in a bundle of pink blankets and thick, silky hair.

Except, you were supposed to be the quiet one. The easy going one in a family full of hot-blooded loud mouths. Instead, from day one you've been bold and fearless. You know what you want and have no problem making sure the rest of us know it too...constantly. I love that about you though it will probably drive me crazy for the rest of my life.

You're a fierce whirl of curly blonde hair, blue eyes and scabby knees (leave those alone, for the love of Pete!). You love ponies and "yoo-nee-corns." Your brother is your Daddy's pride but you're his heart and that's probably going to be trouble in about ten years. Part of me dreads it, but most of me can't wait. Sweet as he is, your brother has made you tough and that makes me grateful. I know for certain, that whatever life throws at you, you'll throw it right back.

Happy birthday baby banana (yes, I know I'm 8 days late). Mommy loves you big too.

Mom

First Week

2006-09-12T15:59:00.001-05:00

This is what I've noticed. The six year old has discovered his coolness factor. First, it was with regard to his wardrobe. Bottom line: anything with Donkey Kong on it is acceptable, anything with corduroy is not.

Second, it's show and tell. He was supposed to bring in a picture of something he'd done over the summer (er...and I don't have any copies of the x-ray of his arm...aw man, that woulda been cool though:). We found one of him and his oh-so-cool 12 year old cousin in front of Cinderella's castle. See, for my money, this is cool for a couple o' reasons. 1.) his cousin is kewl with a capital K all right. 2.) The castle is immediately recognizable and everybody knows it's Disney.

Turns out, my logic was waaaaay off. Apparently, for a kindergarten boy, the UN-coolness of sitting in front of Cinderella's anything trumps sitting with of your cool 7th grade cousin. Der! Soooo, we sent a picture of my son in Bruce the Shark's "mouth" at Epcot instead.

And the four year old starts preschool again tomorrow. So far so good, but when I asked her what she wanted to wear, she said "I just wanna go all naked."

Robin

Remember 11th

2006-09-11T21:54:00.000-05:00

I started the day with the idea that I would avoid the news. Every year, I make that same promise and every year I break it. I also hadn't intended to write anything meloncholy. The blog-o-sphere and everything else is covered with it. But, I couldn't help it. Somehow, it's my duty, it's everyone's duty to bear witness again. It's almost like the least I can do is watch T.V., silly as that sounds.

Where was I on September 11th? My son was 15 months old and he'd had some issues with his kidney. We were (my husband, my son, I) in the hospital with him getting some disappointing news. He was going to have to have surgery...again. They let us go home. We walked into the hallway and saw a group of people gathered around the T.V. in the surgical waiting room. We just wanted out of there. Whatever it was, we'd catch it on the news at home. We didn't make it out of the building before somebody said it was a plane. We didn't make it out of the parking lot before we realized it was on purpose. When we turned on the radio, they were grounding all of the civilian air traffic. When we got home, when my son was settled...I went to vote.

My husband is in law enforcement and in our city (in every city) they were rounding up volunteers. He wanted to go. He felt it was his duty. I wouldn't let him. I was selfish and I feel guilty about that, but I know I would be again. His duty was here. Our son still had to have surgery. I donated blood. For the longest time, I felt like I didn't have anyplace to go in my head to get away from it. No happy place.

My son had his surgery and he is fine. Thank God. He is fine. Now we've survived our first week of All-Day Kindergarten. He's talking about it. Last year, I couldn't get a word out of him about what happened at school. Now he's a regular chatterbox. He's made a friend already and a couple of school bus-buddies. He's officially "out there." I have good vibes about this year (which I hopefully haven't just squashed by saying that).

And that was my day.

Robin

Labor Day

2006-09-04T16:19:00.000-05:00

Well, I think we're ready. School starts tomorrow. My six year old will be gone ALL DAY now. I'm a wreck. I was feeling slightly agitated when he went to bed last night. It was the last night of the summer. I'd waited until the last minute to go grocery shopping for "lunch food." Then, when I finally made it to the store, I fell apart. I got a little weepy in the snack aisle and overcompensated by getting enough snacks to last us until about Valentine's Day. (then I ate a bunch of them when we got home...but that's another topic altogether).

His bookbag is packed. I found a spare shoe lace for his bus tag. I wrapped the bus tag in packing tape to keep it from turning gummy when he inevitably chews on it (Lesson #1 learned from last year). We sat down and had a dry run with the Superman lunch bag to see if he could open everything (he's still kind of one-armed with the cast and all). Lesson #2, stay away from the rubbermaid containers and go with ziploc bags. Also stay away from Capri Suns, those things exist to torture me.

Soooooo, I think we're good to go. Stay tuned, the adventure continues...

Robin

My Four Year Old is Nuts

2006-09-03T11:16:00.001-05:00

I think my daughter is turning into a bag lady.

All right, some background...

There's a woman in the town where I live. I'm fairly sure most towns have a character like her. I don't know if she's homeless, I don't know if she's eccentric or just plain loco. No one does. I (and most people) call her the Bike Lady. She rides around, all over town, on her bike. She appears to collect things. Water bottles, walkie talkies, flowers, paper bags, just everything.

Well...

In the last few days, my daughter has glommed on to two lunch boxes and a unicorn purse. She's been carrying them around non-stop. No one has bothered to ask her what's in them, but if you try to take any one of them away from her, she screams bloody murder and throws herself down on the floor. We no longer try to take them.

Well...

Last night, she put them on the bathroom floor as she stepped into her bath. I asked her if I could move them into the hall because I didn't want the metal lunch boxes to get wet. She acquiesced. When I picked one of them up, it fell open.

Well...

Out spilled coins, Littlest Pet Shop animals, ponies (lots of 'em, that I would have guessed), a tiara, a pair of socks, a headband, one of her brother's squishy frogs, various hair ties, a stuffed kitten that was really way to big for the box and would have been gasping for air and angry--y'know, if it was real--a sketcher's tag from one of her new school shirts and one glittery shoe (a size 7 1/2, she's a 9, but it was one of her favorites).

Hmmmmm.

Robin

Eye of the Tiger

2006-07-18T11:09:00.000-05:00

The T-ball Gods were with us today. It's been 95 degrees for three days, and this morning, it broke. Just in time for Game 2. We played the Royal Blue team (we're orange). The six year old is one of the stars of the team. I admit that I'm biased (being his mother and all). But...he is. It probably helps that he's almost 2 years older than half the team. We'll take what we can get. That...and I think the Attention Span Fairy has finally paid a visit to our house (at least where he's concerned).

The 3 year old...well. She batted once, looked really cute in her outfit and in the team photo and loooves the after-game snack, but that's about all she cares to deal with. Oh, and she likes her pink mit and her pink bat. She spent the rest of the time fanning herself in the bleachers and taking a "nap" with her new stuffed Bichon.

All I gotta say is watch out Red team, you're in our cross hairs next week and I'm Snack Mom. Grrrr.

Robin

6

2006-06-30T00:11:00.000-05:00

You were impossible to bring in to this world. Somewhere, I’ve got photos in an album of a dining room table covered in medicine vials, syringes, etc. I’ll save the guilt trips for you on that later. I’m entitled after all.

You were hard to bring into this world. After it was over, I remember one of the nurses talking to me about what to expect the next morning, where I could find my water pitcher. I quietly told her, “Yes, but I’m going to die now.” Did I mention you were very hard to bring in to this world?

But…you were the most beautiful baby in the world. I say that free of the typical, obligatory mother’s view. You really were. Shiloh Jolie-Pitt’s got nothing on you. You were perfect with round cheeks and more black hair than Elvis. You were and are something special.

You are sweet and kind, earnest and thoughtful. You’re just starting to balk when I kiss you, but I’m going to keep doing it. Forever.

I can see you from the kitchen window now. You’ve found a baby toad and I made you put it in an old plastic Easter bucket because you squished the last two toads to critical condition. This toad is starting to look a little limp as well. The dentist said you’ve got a loose tooth and I had to give you the lecture about not to actually eat it when it falls out. You asked me why not.

Later, you’ll sit with (and probably torment) your sister when it’s time to settle for your hot chocolate and movie. It’s Peter Pan tonight. You’ll balk again when I try to kiss you good night, but not before you ask me to pull your bad dreams out of your ears. I will.

When you wake up in the morning, you’ll be six.

Happy Birthday pumpkin. Your Mommy loves you big and forever.

Mom.

Blogcrastination

2006-06-19T22:22:00.000-05:00

I was going to blog about all of our Disney adventures, but I left it half-finished and now it's old news. The hightlights are as follows...

1.) My favorite moment - (there were many), but the "surprise" parade we ran into at MGM studios was pretty great. Somehow or another we ended up in the front row and just about every character had a personal encounter w/ both my kids (the 5 year old's recently purchased Kermit the Frog doll even got to be part of the parade for about 10 seconds). When my daughter (the three year old horse freak) saw Mary Poppins riding in on a carousel horse, she screamed, "I can't beweeve it!"

2.) Most "interesting" moment - Ok, in my defense, the 5 year old insisted we go see It's Tough To Be A Bug in the Tree of Life. He loves A Bug's Life okay? Well, for those of you who don't know, it's a fifteen minute 3-D movie in which the audience gets to experience what it's like to be a bug. There was stink spray coming at us and then giant spiders with beady red eyes dropped from the ceiling. In 3-D! The three year old still doesn't trust me.

3.) Most interesting Disney tidbit I could do without knowing - My son vomited all over Norway. We found out later he had a double ear infection (no wonder the airplane was a challenge for the little guy). In addition to shutting down the Maelstrom for 15 minutes, we encountered a crack team of Disney employees on hand with bags of sawdust and various other vomit cleaning supplies. We were calling them the Vomit Team until my sister discovered they have an actual name. The Protein Spill Squad. Somehow, this doesn't seem like the kind of job one actually applies for.

All in all though...it was a WONDERFUL trip.

Robin

Flower Child

2006-06-14T18:54:00.000-05:00

Is she cute or WHAT????!!!! We did this at the Epcot photoshop booth. I'm working on a monster disney blog. This is just to tide you over :)

Of course...when the three year old saw this picture, she said, "But Mama, I wanna be a happy flower."

Doesn't everyone?

Half-Baked Ideas

2006-05-02T21:37:00.000-05:00

My blog thoughts seem even more random and snippety lately. I don't know why, it could be my own sassy withdrawal (ok, tonight is the one week mark...we're through the rabbit hole people!), but all of my current projects are in a state of half-finished.

I was compiling a list (in my head, of course) of the top ten most useful inventions in my day-to-day life. I'm at two. Here goes (in random order...it's my theme, y'know):

1.) No-spill sippy cup valves

2.) The Tankini

Yeah, I know, don't quit my day job. I'll keep working on it.

So here's a cute kid story. When my 5 year old comes home from kindergarten, I always expect him to be ravenous. I don't know why, but I have this fear that in those 3 1/2 hours away from me, he's going to starve or dehydrate. Of course, he's fine. He does like a hot chocolate (in a sippy cup, natch) ready for him when he walks in the door. I digress...the system we've worked out is I just don't bug him for about an hour (other than getting his hot chocolate). Then, usually he asks for a sandwhich and eats the thing in like one bite. Well, a couple of days ago he went right for the snack pantry. I, of course, reminded him that we don't eat snacks until we've eaten actual lunch.

He says: Mom, I ate lunch at school.

I say: What did you have?

He says: A sandwhich.

I say: Oh, what kind?

He says: An ice-cream sandwhich.

And I think I just got out-lawyered.

Robin

Around the Horn

2006-04-29T22:50:00.000-05:00

I should learn by now that saying stuff like this is bad karma. I do it anyway. BUT...it's been four nights. The three-year-old has stopped asking about her pacifier at bedtime. She has, however, wet her bed twice. It's one step up two steps back. Growing up is HARD man. It's hard.

How did this happen? What happened to those sweet little furry-headed babies I used to have? I'm beginning to think the sassy was more for me than it was for her. But...we're almost there. Somehow, past all the diaper changes, nipple rejection (my son liked the nuk three-holers, my daughter liked the standard cross-cut), Ferber-izing (huge fan, BTW!) pull-ups, obscenely expensive jars of baby food (can't say as I miss apple-chicken purree), disgusting formula, we've made it out of babyhood and toddlerhood into bona fide kid-dom. Wow! I mean--really--wow!

It's a blur, but I turned them into actual humans somehow (they're still of the beastly variety...but they're human). I should wax more philosophical on this, I'm sure. I can't though, somebody's singing the Mom-wipe-my-butt song.

Gotta go!

Robin

Sassy Detox: Day Two

2006-04-26T21:33:00.000-05:00

It's been 36 hours with no pacifier. We're just about past the shakes. She squirreled around in her room both nights until about 10:00 p.m. (big sunken eyes with a kind of rabid look about them), but no crying. The worst it got was when she kept chanting "I'm-a-baby-I'm-a-baby" last night, but that hasn't repeated.

Tonight, she just kept creeping up beside the couch while I was watching Idol (man...she's quiet when she wants to be) and whispering, "I love you Mommy." Sweet, but slightly disturbing at the same time (hmmm, which incidentally sums up "Love Song Week" in my opinion).

Anyway, one--maybe two more nights and I think we'll be officially around the horn.

Robin

Status: Day One of Sassy Sobriety

2006-04-25T21:44:00.000-05:00

I'm thinking of starting a new support group. I'm not sure what to call it. Maybe Pac-Anon. Or in our case, Sass-Anon. It would be for family members of people with an addiction...an addiction to pacifiers. (She calls them sassies.)

My daughter is 3 1/2. I have rationalized. I have schemed. I have begged. I have bargained. It is time. It needs to end. I think when you've reached the point where your kid will actually remember sucking on one, it's time to move on.

Today we took the first step toward the rest of her life. I'm trying not to overdramatize this, but it's tough. She's my baby. My last baby. {deep breath} {lip-wobbling sigh}

For months her Dad has been threatening to just cut the nipples off the things and be done with it. I think that's too harsh (plus...er...there's the part where she walks around telling people her Daddy's gonna cut off her nipples tomorrow...but I already blogged about that) I finally decided to use good old-fashioned bribery. I plunked $30 down at Target for a gi-normous plastic show horse complete with a brush, trophy, blue ribbon and fake apples and carrots.

It worked.

We got home with the thing and she obediently (jovially, actually) went upstairs and collected all of her sassies and put 'em in a bag. She even got the scissors and asked us to cut 'em up. We had a lovely day playing with her new toy and then it was bedtime.

I helped her clean up her room and that's where I found it. Her secret stash. She had three sassies stuffed in the bottom of her pink unicorn purse. I debated just taking the things away without telling her. I decided that wasn't fair. If I want her to be a Big Girl, I have to treat her like one. I showed them to her.

The color drained from her face and she started stomping her feet. "No. I'm-a-baby-I'm-a-baby-I'm-a-baby!"

But the jig was up. There was no going back (er...plus...$30 for a plastic horse!!!!) We got rid of them.

She's sleeping quietly now. I'll keep you posted.

Robin

Reflections on a Nightstand

2006-04-18T21:59:00.000-05:00

Ok, I don't actually know what any of this means, but I was cleaning like a mad woman on Saturday because everyone was coming to my house for Easter (lovely time had by all...good ham). Anywaaay, I dusted (twice a year whether it needs it or not!) and cleared off all of our nightstands. I found it interesting. I'm sure there is some anthropological analysis somebody could do about what the items on our nightstand say about us as individuals. Zzzzzzz. You be the judge:

On my night stand:
A half empty bottle of Suave hand lotion; Vaseline; A Sports bottle of water; a dusty Clock radio (tuned to the hits from the 80's, 90's AND today!); Kleenex.

On my husband's night stand:
A beer stein full o’ change;Handcuffs; his Police badge; his pager; a 300-count bottle of Vitamin B

On my five year old son's night stand:
A Spongebob lamp; Plastic Halloween skull (its roughly the size of his own head and he puts his glasses on it at night...festive!); a book about Ogres; three strands of Mardi Gras beads encircling two “squishy” plastic frogs; a cup of water

On my three year old daughter's night stand:
A Hello Kitty clock radio (she tunes it herself...it's static); a Jewelry box with two of the handles missing (she likes to take crap apart); Plastic purple flowers in a vase; Various twisted hair baubles; one of her brother's plastic "squishy" frogs with the legs chewed off.

Hmmmmm.

Robin

Make That All-Dead Monday

2006-02-20T21:37:00.000-05:00

Harry is dead.

He went quietly and peacefully, from what I can tell. He's moved on to the great beyond where all good lizards go. You see, he was a Chinese Water Dragon.

The five year old handled it pretty well until he asked if he could view the body. I debated letting him, but I thought maybe it would help give him closure (what...am I nuts??) Well, he started crying and it was all I could do not to go out and buy him six puppies on the spot. Luckily I came to my senses. Not before being roped into promising to buy him painted shell hermit crabs.

Soooo, hermit crabs. I put him off for awhile at least. We're going to have to make a big event of it. Go to the library, read up how not to kill them (Harry was, after all, our 3rd lizard). The boy got pretty jazzed when he realized you can get one with a shell painted like Spongebob. All is well.

God speed Harry the Lizard. May you find tall trees and fat crickets wherever your journey takes you.

Robin

Happy B-day!

2006-01-31T23:29:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday today to my amazing, fabulous, wonderful, beautiful sister. (ok, so the B-day is officially 2/1, but I'm posting before I go to bed) Did I also mention she's older than me? Boo ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!! Well, then of course, by the time *she's* 40, her kids will be just about out of the house. Whereas mine will just be starting teendom. Er...I have a nagging suspicion hers is the better end of that deal. (oh...and I owe you a card and a present:)

Hmmm.

In other news...the three-year-old hasn't worn pull-ups in going on a month now! Not a single one. Not at naptime. Not even at night. We have purchased the Big Girl Bed and we are using it!!!! It has stayed (more or less) dry. And I realize I've just jinxed the whole f*&%ing thing. But...it's huge. We have officially moved beyond the Age of the Diaper. Oh. My. God.

My secret? When I go to bed at like 11:30 or midnight, I take my daughter and sit her on the potty (she's sleeping through this whole thing mind you). I do have this back burner fear that I'll be following this procedure until she's 12 or something. Hey...anything's better than washing those sheets eleventy times a week.

I'm so proud of her! Yay!

But, I must point out. That child has a way cooler bedroom than I ever did. It's all purple and she has a doll house in it, a My Little Pony castle, pink "X-mas" lights that look like tassled crowns, a T.V. (curtesy of Beepa and Busia...she's a princess, what can I do?) I had to go all over creation to get the right Barbie wall poster for her. Not Barbie Rapunzel, God forbid not Barbie Fairytopia or Barbie Swan Lake. For the love of all that is holy, it had to be Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus. Well, duh! Ok, of which she's never actually seen the movie. But it's Barbie AND a Pegasus. Are you kidding? Could there be anything more amazing? Hey, now that she's keeping everything dry, we're golden!

Hmmm. I think that's going to be my new slogan. Instead of 'keepin it real' I'll just be 'keepin' it dry."

"Hey, Robin, how's it going?"

"Keepin' it dry man. Keepin' it dry."

Robin

Now where did I put Clive Davis' phone number?

2005-12-01T21:11:00.000-05:00

I'm attempting to organize my home office. It's NOT going well...at all. However, I came across the lyrics to one of my made up mommy songs. I wrote this one when my son was about 7 or 8 mos. old and starting to eat that crappy rice cereal mixed with formula. Y'know, the kind that looks like something you could use to fix holes in your dry wall. I'd sing it to him as I shoveled it into his sweet but mostly toothless gaping maw. It'd come flying back out and I'd scrape it off his chin. Yum. My technique was to stick a pacifier in his mouth as a stopper. Of course, 'twas so lovely when that slop came shooting out of the tiny holes in the side. Slurpin' good times!

As usual, this may amuse no one but me...but that's pretty much been my standard for everything :) Here goes (er...there's a melody of course, but I have no idea how to write it, you can make up your own :)

Sticking to the roof of my mouth
Sticking to the roof of my mouth
Could you get me a drink?
I'm starting to think
It's sticking to the roof of my mouth

Sticking to the roof of my mouth
Sticking to the roof of my mouth
Better wipe me off quick
I see it's making you sick
It's sticking to the roof of my mouth

Sticking to the roof of my mouth
Sticking to the roof of my mouth
Get out of the way
I'm getting ready to spray
'Cuz it's sticking to the roof of my mouth

M'yeah...probably a good idea I went back to work when I did.

Robin

Family Circus

2005-10-01T22:12:00.000-05:00

Ok, Mommy is taking a page from Bill Keane. Mommy is bone-tired and can't think up anything bloggy. So, Mommy is taking a blog-cation and letting the kiddies write a story. Here's what they came up with.

Once upon a time there was a big brother and a little sister. They had magical powers and lived in a magical castle made of chocolate. Of all their magical powers, the one that was most amazing was their magic butts. Their butts could fight bad guys. Big Brother's butt shot out spider webs, just like Spider Man. Little Sister's butt shot out fairies and rainbows. Together, they could defeat the baddest guy of all...

Big Daddy Butt.

Big Daddy Butt's butt shot out yucky stuff that could stink up the place. But Big Brother and Little Sister (with the help of Princess Mommy, who's butt could shoot out flowers) would kill all the yucky stuff by trapping it with their spider webs, rainbows and fairies.

Then everyone was happy and went to the ball to eat M & Ms. Then they went to Chuck E. Cheeses.

The End.

Withdrawal

2005-09-01T17:20:00.000-05:00

I've spent the past 36 hours computer-less. Dunno what happened. Somehow, some of my windows files became corrupt (apparently, they became drunk with too much unchecked wealth and power and destroyed the middle class). Anyway, nothing would load. Fabulous computer guys helped me out for a mere hundred bucks. Now all is well. Except everything that I've ever loaded onto my computer is gone. At least until I can find all those back up disks I so religiously made. Little thing about backing up, it only works if you don't use the C.D.'s for coasters or forget to unpack them from whatever box you decide to put them in that you can't find a place for anyway. Ugh.

In the grand scheme of things (ok, even in the mini scheme of things, in light of recent national developments) no biggie. Except how did I ever survive before Al Gore invented the Internet? Did he invent e-mail too? No, wait, I think that was Spiro Agnew or somebody. Either way, nice job!

Robin

The Day After

2005-08-27T18:43:00.000-05:00

We survived the first week of kindergarten. We like the bus. We like our classmates. We like our Spiderman backpack. All is well.

The big thing I've been obsessing over is the J-man being able to write his name (ok, yeah, so I obsess over LOTS of things...what of it?). But as to letter writing, he CAN do it (or a close approximation), he just won't do it for me. Well, he did it. I found it on a painting he drew that was stuffed into said Spiderman backpack. He put down three out of four letters and transposed them, but the boy made his mark. Awwright!!!!!

In other news, I've got a new job. That's all I'm saying. I've read too many blog horror stories out there to say anything else so, as my daughter would say, "I sceered." Job = new, great. All is well.

Now we just have two more weeks until Princess 2-yr-old starts preschool. Oh boy!

Robin

Kindergarten Readiness

2005-08-09T22:37:00.001-05:00

So, two more weeks until the Big Day. John's starting kindergarten. I was feeling stressed. John's not ready. I'm not ready. He's a baby still. You get the gist. Of course, playing into my neuroses, I pull out the Kindergarten Readiness check list and see how we're doing. Which, of course, made me more stressed, more freaked. He's not READY.

Um...until I started applying the checklist to myself. Let's see if I'm ready for Kindergarten.

Social Development:

1. Can be taken away from parents without being overly upset. (um...check, unless my Mother's giving me her opinion on what I should wear or how clean my countertops are)

2. Can spend extended periods of time away from parents. (um...not really)

3. Explores and tries new things. (well...)

4. Curious and motivated to learn. (well...)

5. Puts away toys and helps with family chores. (not without complaining profusely)

6. Meets visitors without shyness. (check, yay!)

7. Finishes tasks. (not without complaining profusely)

8. Describes some basic emotions and feelings. (chuh, yeah...just ask my husband)

9. Expresses feelings and needs. (not without complaining profusely)

10. Recognizes authority. (I own a mirror!)

11. Gets along and plays cooperatively with other childern. (oh dear...)

12. Can take care of own toilet needs independently. (ok, I can...but there are others in this house...I'm not mentioning any names but it rhymes with Fim and he's hairy...nuf said?)

13. Feels good about self and talks easily. (I'm not answering that.)

14. Dresses self and cares for own belongings. (except everything I own ends up covered in Spaghettios)

Yeah, it's no longer John that I'm worried about.

Robin

This week's reason to call Social Services

2005-07-31T18:58:00.000-05:00

It's started. The Great Sassy War. See, Anna (age 2) still takes a pacifier at bedtime and naptime. She calls it a sassy (the pacifier, not the nap) I know, it's shameful, I suppose (the sassy usage, not the nap). But see, she still TAKES a nap. She's almost 3, this is huge. I know we need to cut her off soon, but I'm not ready to start screwing with her nap wa. What if she stops sleeping altogether in protest (it's been known to happen).

The Darling Husband has been putting serious pressue on me/her to get rid of the stinky things. Um...did I mention he's almost never home during nap/bedtime? My point, if I've gotta deal with it, then I should have to deal with it. In other words, back the hell off.

His point, she's almost 3, it's getting freaky.

So, he tried to go around me and reason with her. Got her to agree that "tomorrow" they would cut the nipples off her sassies. Problem, Anna thinks every increment of time that is not right now is tomorrow. Therefore, as long as whatever it is is happening tomorrow, then it will never happen.

Great.

Until I overheard her talking to anyone who would listen at T-ball practice. "Hi, I'm Anna. My Daddy's gonna cut my nipples off tomorrow."

Robin

--more nipple-themed blogging later ...it's been that kind of a week

Crying Sandwiches and Other Knee-slappers

2005-07-16T17:24:00.000-05:00

My daughter is a comedian (or comedienne...sp?...never understood the need for gender specification on this one, and yet, I'm okay with actor vs. actress...I digress). It all started when John learned some knock knock jokes. He was best at telling the boo hoo one (y'know, boo, boo hoo, why are you crying?)

Here's Anna's version and greatest hits (remember, she's 2).

Knock, knock.

Who's There.

Sandwich.

Sandwich who?

Sandwich boo hoo.

Or...

Knock, knock.

Who's there?

Juice.

Juice who?

Juice boo hoo.

Finally...

Knock, knock.

Who's there?

Sunglasses.

Sunglasses who?

Sunglasses boo hoo.

Get it? Don't worry, I'm sure it'll hit you later.

Robin

Only My Child

2005-06-20T14:01:00.000-05:00

If I could get the two-year old to pick lotto numbers, I think we'd be all set. Either that, or they need to start paying me to watch her for physical comedy ideas on Kelly Ripa's sit-com or something.

I took her to the grocery store (well, first we went to the bank and they wouldn't let us use their restroom even though it was apparent she was in dire straits). Anyway, we made a beeline through produce and made it to the potty on time. She did her business. Somehow, she'd managed to get her shorts off one foot and they were hanging around the other ankle. She does a little kick maneuver and the shorts go arcing over and...yes...into the bowl. Pre-flushed.

I had two choices. I could have left, gone home and got her new shorts, or I could just go on about my business. I chose the latter. So, we went on our merry way through the aisles sans shorts. The silver lining is that her underpants did NOT suffer the same fate as her shorts. Ergo, if anyone saw a curly-headed two year old at the Lambertville Kroger's today wearing nothing on the bottom but bright, pink Dora underpants--um...that's what happened. :)

Aghhhhhh.

Settling In

2005-06-12T18:14:00.000-05:00

Ah...subdivision living. I can actually hear bugs at night and see the stars. Our neighbors all have little rugrats just like ours. My son thinks it's like living in Disneyland. The bad news, he's socializing. Ok, so that's good news for him, bad news for me. My aunt warned me. If you think it's bad when your child scrapes his knee or needs stiches (or needs a sponge extracted from his nose or popcorn from his ear...oh, sorry, totally other story), wait until someone hurts his feelings. Yow. She was right. Well, so far so good.

He was riding bikes the other day with all the other little scruffy boys. Ok, ok, so he was the only one who's mom was following behind him, hiding in the shrubs so as not to mess with his nearly five-year-old coolness. My husband suggested I borrow his hunting camo next time. Hey, I just might ;)

More good news. I think the two year old has come off her post-move potty strike. We've gone four whole days with no major accidents (nighttime is another story, but last time I checked, there's no such thing as night pre-school, so we're good for fall). I had to resort to bribery with M&M's though. Still, I'll take it.

Robin

Lost in Translation

2005-04-25T12:34:00.000-05:00

I realize, telling cute stories about my kids generally only impresses their immediate family members...but since (at this point) that makes up for most of my audience, here goes.

Overheard: A conversation between John and Anna in which Anna is asking John to get her a granola bar. She can't reach it, and they've just gotten to the point where they've figured out how to cause maximum destruction through teamwork.

She says, "oh bar...I wanna oh bar, Johnny. Please!"

John's answer, "It's not a 'oh' bar Anna. Silly. It's a 'gola' bar. Say it. GO-LA bar."

Anna: "Ooowe bar."

Right. John gets it but is foiled by the foil rap and they both end up screaming in frustration. Doh!

After putting down her crack pipe (that's a joke), Mommy finally came to the rescue and chocolate gola bars were had by all.

Robin

April 2, 2005

2005-04-02T21:34:00.000-05:00

I wish I could write something profound about what’s happened, but my feelings on the passing of John Paul II are simple. I am Catholic. I am Polish. I was eight years old and I remember-- as clearly as if it were yesterday--how my grandfather nearly wept with pride on the day a man named Karol Wojtyla became Pope. Grandpa Kordowski was a first generation Polish American and he lived to see the day when one of his own ascended to the Throne of St. Peter. Today, I feel like I’ve lost a part my grandfather all over again but in a strange and comforting way. God bless them both. And to John Paul II, I imagine you’ll have lots to do when you get to heaven. But, when things settle down a bit, if you could please spare a few minutes for that handsome old guy in the back. The one with big smile, big heart, telling off color jokes. His name is Stanislaw…Stanley, but you can call him Korda. Tell him Buckets says hi and she misses him.

Robin

Once upon on time...

2005-02-25T20:21:00.000-05:00

Prologue - My four year old son has just reached the age where his imagination has taken off. One of his favorite past times seems to be making up cockamayme stories (hmmm, is that how one spells cockamayme?) Anyway...like mother like son I suppose.

The setting - 7:30 in my 2 year old daughter's room and my son has decided he will tell her a bedtime fairytale to help her off to sleep. She's game, I'm game. We give the four year old the floor.

The story - "Once upon a time," he starts (were you expecting Dickens? :D). "There was a little boy named John and a little girl named Anna. They lived in a fairytale castle and had fairytale things (all good so far, already he's drawing me in). One day, there was a...." At this point, he pauses, his eyes go wide and he announces, "I gotta go poop." And he's off and running into the bathroom. About five minutes later, with his audience still hanging, he's back. He says, "and everything came out like magic. The end."

I smell Pulitzer. Well...I smelled somethin' anyway.

May everything come out like magic.

Robin (feeling abundantly sorry that just a few weeks into my new blog, I've already resorted to poop stories...but, I just hadta!)