Today was the end of fall here at Shiny Red Houses.
The Christmas magazines have been showing up in my mailbox, making me very impatient for the holiday decorating season to begin.
You should know this about me. I love anticipation. I spend summer waiting for fall. I love fall, but even as I am taking my children trick-or-treating I am looking over the shoulder of November and peaking at December.
Of course by December 26th I am sick to death of Christmas and all it's fussiness, but for now Christmas is all sparkle and allure.
Today David raked the leaves and I put away all of the fall decorations. After Thanksgiving I want to be able to jump right into trees and holly and whatnot.
I also spent some time with the big black garbage bag today also known as BBGB.
The BBGB is what I haul from room to room when the children aren't home and stash toys in- usually stuffed animals- that are never played with. Once they are in the BBGB I put them in the basement for a few days. If no one notices that they are missing, then off to Goodwill they go.
They almost never notice.
In other news, David continues to regularly beat me at Scrabble. How is this possible? I was an English Major! I read all the time! He watches movies! And football!
Just when I think I know everything there is to know about that man he surprises me. A Scrabble genius...what next?!
Showing posts with label Scrabble. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scrabble. Show all posts
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
Seven letter word...
I was all set to rant about my coffee maker but first I must tell you that my husband just put down a seven letter word in Scrabble. Seventy-two points.
It hardly seems worth it to keep playing, but I must. Scrabble continues to be our balm in these stressful times, though a seventy-two point word put down by your spouse does put a bit of grit in that ointment.
Thank you for all of your get well wishes for Lily. I am cultivating a fun little theory about her illness. This theory will be part one in a series I like to call, "On Being An American Cliche".
Part One:
Maybe Lily has swine flu! No, she doesn't have a fever, but I've been doing some internet research. Using my best English Major skills and Google I learned that about 30% of people with swine flu do not have a fever. Her respiratory symptoms are consistent with the swine flu and her general crankiness and whininess are very high indeed.
Resolved: swine flu.
Part Two:
My coffee maker broke and I have no idea how to fix it. I have been loving my Keurig coffee maker for about six months. It's red, it's shiny and it brews a great cup of coffee every single time.
Except for now.
It stopped working today so I did the only thing to be done in this situation. I googled "fix broken keurig". And lo, many many people have had this problem and one person even solved it! Fixing it seemed simple enough. I immediately began taking it apart. I removed all 157 microscopic screws holding the metal bottom on. Then I started clipping all of the plastic fasteners so that I could get to the tube which I needed to clear. This is about when I realized that this project had ceased to be a repair mission and had become war.
Maybe if I'd had a blow torch or a small stick of dynamite I could have pried that thing open, but since I'm just an unarmed liberal I used words, lots of angry words, none of which worked.
So there you have it: I diagnosed my child using the internet, talked to a broken appliance and will surely lose to my husband at Scrabble. Again.
There had better be chocolate in the house.
It hardly seems worth it to keep playing, but I must. Scrabble continues to be our balm in these stressful times, though a seventy-two point word put down by your spouse does put a bit of grit in that ointment.
Thank you for all of your get well wishes for Lily. I am cultivating a fun little theory about her illness. This theory will be part one in a series I like to call, "On Being An American Cliche".
Part One:
Maybe Lily has swine flu! No, she doesn't have a fever, but I've been doing some internet research. Using my best English Major skills and Google I learned that about 30% of people with swine flu do not have a fever. Her respiratory symptoms are consistent with the swine flu and her general crankiness and whininess are very high indeed.
Resolved: swine flu.
Part Two:
My coffee maker broke and I have no idea how to fix it. I have been loving my Keurig coffee maker for about six months. It's red, it's shiny and it brews a great cup of coffee every single time.
Except for now.
It stopped working today so I did the only thing to be done in this situation. I googled "fix broken keurig". And lo, many many people have had this problem and one person even solved it! Fixing it seemed simple enough. I immediately began taking it apart. I removed all 157 microscopic screws holding the metal bottom on. Then I started clipping all of the plastic fasteners so that I could get to the tube which I needed to clear. This is about when I realized that this project had ceased to be a repair mission and had become war.
Maybe if I'd had a blow torch or a small stick of dynamite I could have pried that thing open, but since I'm just an unarmed liberal I used words, lots of angry words, none of which worked.
So there you have it: I diagnosed my child using the internet, talked to a broken appliance and will surely lose to my husband at Scrabble. Again.
There had better be chocolate in the house.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Magic, mayhem and Scrabble!
Have you ever noticed that in most families at least one child is the designated mischief maker?
I bet you can guess who that child is in our house.
I'll give you a hint. She likes the smell of her own farts and spent ten minutes last night running around the house, completely naked except for one of my bras while singing, "I'm a Barbie girl in a Barbie world! My boobs are plastic! It's fantastic!"
Rebecca would never behave like that. Last year in school the teacher sent a note home to let us know that Rebecca had been too chatty in class that day. David and I had a hard time getting angry, because it was the first time she had ever gotten into even the littlest bit of trouble. We were even a little proud. Our little girl was letting loose!
Like me, Rebecca was born 35. She will spend her childhood and adolescence worrying, planning and considering. She will be gentle with the feelings of her friends. Adults will love her for her enthusiasm and good judgement. Becoming an adult will be a relief- finally she will be old enough to be in the role for which she was born. I understand that sweet girl perfectly.
Lily, as you have probably figured out, is trouble. She's not mean or purposefully disobedient. She just lives in her own crazy little world where everything is funny and she's the star.
Today while Rebecca was busy making sure that all of her webkinz were fed and cared for and reading classics of literature, Lily was in the attic/playroom with her friend A.
I heard giggles and happy sounds so I ignored them.
Yes, I ignored them, which is why when Lily announced at dinner that she and A had put glitter glue in the hair of her American Girl doll I was not entirely surprised.
Luckily it was not actual glue, but glitter makeup so it will come out without too much trouble. Lily kept saying how great it looked and Reader? She had a point.
Meanwhile, Rebecca has been playing a little game called. "Messing with Lily's mind". It goes like this: Lily leaves her beloved Teddy Bear somewhere. Rebecca then moves Teddy to another location and will even set a scene wherein Teddy is engaged in some activity. Rebecca then breathlessly announces to Lily that Teddy is magic.
Lily has fallen for this completely and Rebecca is delighting in creating magic for Lily.
Notice the attention to detail? Teddy is both eating fake food and using glue. On the carpet.
David and I have been ignoring the children the past few evenings because we have become addicted to challenging each other to Scrabble games on our iphones. It's how we are coping with a rather gigantic heap of stress right now.
Some couples fight, some drink- we play Scrabble. Oddly enough, neither of us are particularly competitive about it. We play and focus on something small and concrete, allowing the anxiety of life to disappear.
We have each other, we have our kids and we have 100 letters to arrange and rearrange.
Sometimes it's enough.
I bet you can guess who that child is in our house.
I'll give you a hint. She likes the smell of her own farts and spent ten minutes last night running around the house, completely naked except for one of my bras while singing, "I'm a Barbie girl in a Barbie world! My boobs are plastic! It's fantastic!"
Rebecca would never behave like that. Last year in school the teacher sent a note home to let us know that Rebecca had been too chatty in class that day. David and I had a hard time getting angry, because it was the first time she had ever gotten into even the littlest bit of trouble. We were even a little proud. Our little girl was letting loose!
Like me, Rebecca was born 35. She will spend her childhood and adolescence worrying, planning and considering. She will be gentle with the feelings of her friends. Adults will love her for her enthusiasm and good judgement. Becoming an adult will be a relief- finally she will be old enough to be in the role for which she was born. I understand that sweet girl perfectly.
Lily, as you have probably figured out, is trouble. She's not mean or purposefully disobedient. She just lives in her own crazy little world where everything is funny and she's the star.
Today while Rebecca was busy making sure that all of her webkinz were fed and cared for and reading classics of literature, Lily was in the attic/playroom with her friend A.
I heard giggles and happy sounds so I ignored them.
Yes, I ignored them, which is why when Lily announced at dinner that she and A had put glitter glue in the hair of her American Girl doll I was not entirely surprised.
Luckily it was not actual glue, but glitter makeup so it will come out without too much trouble. Lily kept saying how great it looked and Reader? She had a point.
Meanwhile, Rebecca has been playing a little game called. "Messing with Lily's mind". It goes like this: Lily leaves her beloved Teddy Bear somewhere. Rebecca then moves Teddy to another location and will even set a scene wherein Teddy is engaged in some activity. Rebecca then breathlessly announces to Lily that Teddy is magic.
Lily has fallen for this completely and Rebecca is delighting in creating magic for Lily.
Notice the attention to detail? Teddy is both eating fake food and using glue. On the carpet.
David and I have been ignoring the children the past few evenings because we have become addicted to challenging each other to Scrabble games on our iphones. It's how we are coping with a rather gigantic heap of stress right now.
Some couples fight, some drink- we play Scrabble. Oddly enough, neither of us are particularly competitive about it. We play and focus on something small and concrete, allowing the anxiety of life to disappear.
We have each other, we have our kids and we have 100 letters to arrange and rearrange.
Sometimes it's enough.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Sloth
Why am I always the parent who gets woken up with news that one of the dogs has had diarrhea in the crate and is covered in poop?
When David and I married, our ketubah contained many promises. Promises to love, respect, honor and cherish. Promises to protect and care for each other.
Nowhere was there anything about hosing down poop encrusted dogs at 7:00 on a Saturday morning.
So now you know how my day started.
Luckily what followed was mostly sloth. Pugsley inspired us.
Forgive the pug privates. He's indecent.
After David and I devoted several hours to playing Scrabble we all ate bacon. It seemed the right thing to do.
Then I tried felting. Guess what? It's kind of boring. It holds none of the thrill of painting a floor or a piece of furniture. You take a wad of wool and turn it into a wad of felt.
After all of that relaxing I started getting a little twitchy. My people have not evolved to relax for more than an hour at a time. The Catholic guilt starts weighing more and more heavily until the only thing that's left to be done is clean the attic.
After an hour amidst the dust, old quilts and a small fortunes worth of American Girl Doll finery my conscience was restored.
It fact, at that point I felt virtuous enough to challenge David to another game of Scrabble.
And reader, though my day began by cleaning dog poop, it ended with me kicking David's butt at Scrabble.
When David and I married, our ketubah contained many promises. Promises to love, respect, honor and cherish. Promises to protect and care for each other.
Nowhere was there anything about hosing down poop encrusted dogs at 7:00 on a Saturday morning.
So now you know how my day started.
Luckily what followed was mostly sloth. Pugsley inspired us.
Forgive the pug privates. He's indecent.
After David and I devoted several hours to playing Scrabble we all ate bacon. It seemed the right thing to do.
Then I tried felting. Guess what? It's kind of boring. It holds none of the thrill of painting a floor or a piece of furniture. You take a wad of wool and turn it into a wad of felt.
After all of that relaxing I started getting a little twitchy. My people have not evolved to relax for more than an hour at a time. The Catholic guilt starts weighing more and more heavily until the only thing that's left to be done is clean the attic.
After an hour amidst the dust, old quilts and a small fortunes worth of American Girl Doll finery my conscience was restored.
It fact, at that point I felt virtuous enough to challenge David to another game of Scrabble.
And reader, though my day began by cleaning dog poop, it ended with me kicking David's butt at Scrabble.