This does not bode well for the summer.
*shriek*
Friday, May 29, 2009
WAAAAARGH!!!!
The kids have been home from school for 3 hours and 31 minutes. And I already want to strangle send them back.
This does not bode well for the summer.
*shriek*
This does not bode well for the summer.
*shriek*
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Tales in the Land of Counterpane...
I read to the Impossible Son at night. We go through books much more slowly than I did with the Impertinent Daughter. He goes to sleep, lulled by the sound of my voice, whereas she wanted very much to know how the chapter ended, and often would beg for more.
I was like the Impossible Son, lulled to sleep by the sound of my mother's or my Uncle James' voices, no matter how interested I was in the story.
This is why we are on Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince and taking our time through it. I feel like I'm letting him down, though. I've been reading to him since he was a baby, just like I did with Miss Priss, and by this time, Miss Priss and I had gotten through The Wizard of Oz, Charlotte's Web, Alice in Wonderland, and Through the Looking Glass, all the Harry Potter books that had been written up to 2004, all of the Narnia books, The Back of the North Wind, many, many fairy tales, The Black Arrow, The Secret Garden, The Light Princess, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, James and the Giant Peach...
Whereas the Impossible Son and I have gotten through from Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone to The Half-Blood Prince.
I think we shall take a break from Harry Potter after we finish this one and maybe start on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory as a change of pace!
Tonight, however, I did something different. I told him a story, a story my mother used to read to me when I was very small, and the cadence of it entranced me so much... that I memorized it. It was the story of The Old Woman and the Pig, and I have told him this story before, as I have told it to his sister many, many times, and I always tell it a little different, though the cadence part remains the same. And as he listened to me go from, "Cat, cat, kill rat, rat won't gnaw rope, rope won't hang butcher, butcher won't kill ox, ox won't drink water, water won't quench fire, fire won't burn stick, stick won't beat dog, dog won't bite pig, pig won't jump over the sty, and I shan't get home tonight," to "The cat began to kill the rat, the rat began to gnaw the rope, the rope began to hang the butcher, the butcher began to kill the ox, the ox began to drink the water, the water began to quench the fire, the fire began to burn the stick, the stick began to beat the dog, the dog began to bite the pig, the pig began to jump the sty and she FINALLY got home..." he blinked and said, "It's like a song, isn't it?"
And I said, "Yes, yes, it is, it's very like a song!"
He said, "That's what helps you remember it all, right? Because it's like a song, it has a rhythm and a flow, and you tell it like a song, just... not singing it?"
"Yes, that's it exactly!" I said, very pleased. "A lot of the old fairy tales are like that. Like the Three Little Pigs tale, you know, little pig, little pig, let me in, not by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin, then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in?"
"Yeah!" he said sleepily. "Just like that! Are there any more like that?"
"Oh, lots and lots," I said with a smile. "Want me to tell them to you?"
"Sure, but not now. For now, I just want to know what happens to Harry on his first day back at Hogwarts."
It's not like he hasn't seen the movies. But, he knows the books are different, and has learned to appreciate that.
Meanwhile, my head is filled with the stories and rhymes my mother and sisters and uncles and aunts read to me. And I can hear my mother softly saying...
Wind, wind, gently sway
Blow Curdken's hat away
Let him chase o'er field and wold
Till my locks of ruddy gold
Now astray and hanging down
Be combed and plaited in a crown...
*goes off to bed with visions of goose-girls, talking horses, ravens and swans flying, and glass mountains in her head*
I was like the Impossible Son, lulled to sleep by the sound of my mother's or my Uncle James' voices, no matter how interested I was in the story.
This is why we are on Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince and taking our time through it. I feel like I'm letting him down, though. I've been reading to him since he was a baby, just like I did with Miss Priss, and by this time, Miss Priss and I had gotten through The Wizard of Oz, Charlotte's Web, Alice in Wonderland, and Through the Looking Glass, all the Harry Potter books that had been written up to 2004, all of the Narnia books, The Back of the North Wind, many, many fairy tales, The Black Arrow, The Secret Garden, The Light Princess, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, James and the Giant Peach...
Whereas the Impossible Son and I have gotten through from Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone to The Half-Blood Prince.
I think we shall take a break from Harry Potter after we finish this one and maybe start on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory as a change of pace!
Tonight, however, I did something different. I told him a story, a story my mother used to read to me when I was very small, and the cadence of it entranced me so much... that I memorized it. It was the story of The Old Woman and the Pig, and I have told him this story before, as I have told it to his sister many, many times, and I always tell it a little different, though the cadence part remains the same. And as he listened to me go from, "Cat, cat, kill rat, rat won't gnaw rope, rope won't hang butcher, butcher won't kill ox, ox won't drink water, water won't quench fire, fire won't burn stick, stick won't beat dog, dog won't bite pig, pig won't jump over the sty, and I shan't get home tonight," to "The cat began to kill the rat, the rat began to gnaw the rope, the rope began to hang the butcher, the butcher began to kill the ox, the ox began to drink the water, the water began to quench the fire, the fire began to burn the stick, the stick began to beat the dog, the dog began to bite the pig, the pig began to jump the sty and she FINALLY got home..." he blinked and said, "It's like a song, isn't it?"
And I said, "Yes, yes, it is, it's very like a song!"
He said, "That's what helps you remember it all, right? Because it's like a song, it has a rhythm and a flow, and you tell it like a song, just... not singing it?"
"Yes, that's it exactly!" I said, very pleased. "A lot of the old fairy tales are like that. Like the Three Little Pigs tale, you know, little pig, little pig, let me in, not by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin, then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in?"
"Yeah!" he said sleepily. "Just like that! Are there any more like that?"
"Oh, lots and lots," I said with a smile. "Want me to tell them to you?"
"Sure, but not now. For now, I just want to know what happens to Harry on his first day back at Hogwarts."
It's not like he hasn't seen the movies. But, he knows the books are different, and has learned to appreciate that.
Meanwhile, my head is filled with the stories and rhymes my mother and sisters and uncles and aunts read to me. And I can hear my mother softly saying...
Wind, wind, gently sway
Blow Curdken's hat away
Let him chase o'er field and wold
Till my locks of ruddy gold
Now astray and hanging down
Be combed and plaited in a crown...
*goes off to bed with visions of goose-girls, talking horses, ravens and swans flying, and glass mountains in her head*
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Finished!!!
Dear Ms. Rowling,
Please to be reading Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson and the Olympians series, in particular, the last book. THAT is how you wrap up a series. Not by throwing random people and situations in, because you're exhausted, and just want to finish the damn book, then adding an epilogue that wraps everything up neatly and tidily because, dammit, you're done and you just don't want to mess with it any more!
Don't get me wrong, Deathly Hallows had some truly inspired moments, but there was so much in it that just felt... out of context, or seemed to be thrown in to move the plot along without any real thought for if it actually did move the plot along.
And I'm sorry, but killing Fred Weasley because you couldn't make yourself kill Arthur Weasley in the fifth book doesn't count as "moving the plot along." That's just called "chickening out and trying to make up for it... badly."
Still rather grumpy with you,
Jo
Please to be reading Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson and the Olympians series, in particular, the last book. THAT is how you wrap up a series. Not by throwing random people and situations in, because you're exhausted, and just want to finish the damn book, then adding an epilogue that wraps everything up neatly and tidily because, dammit, you're done and you just don't want to mess with it any more!
Don't get me wrong, Deathly Hallows had some truly inspired moments, but there was so much in it that just felt... out of context, or seemed to be thrown in to move the plot along without any real thought for if it actually did move the plot along.
And I'm sorry, but killing Fred Weasley because you couldn't make yourself kill Arthur Weasley in the fifth book doesn't count as "moving the plot along." That's just called "chickening out and trying to make up for it... badly."
Still rather grumpy with you,
Jo
Lost in Olympus...
This morning...
*curled up on bed, nose buried in book, cat at feet, cup of tea on table slowly growing cold*
Later this morning...
*curled up on chair, nose buried in book, cat trying to get in lap, glass of ice tea with melting ice slowly dripping on desk*
Lunchtime...
*sitting at table, nose buried in book, forkful of salad suspended in air and dripping salad dressing on jeans and bare foot, unnoticed until cat starts licking foot*
After lunch...
*nose buried in book, curled on couch on porch, until sense of vague disquiet and the thought that something is being forgotten stirs in occupied brain*
Yes, I remembered to pick up my kids before it was time to pick them up. And in a few minutes, I'm going straight back to Percy Jackson and the Last Olympian. And I'm reading slowly because I want to savour it!! And y'all might actually get some fanart out of this one... maybe...
*curls up on bed again and is lost in book once again*
*curled up on bed, nose buried in book, cat at feet, cup of tea on table slowly growing cold*
Later this morning...
*curled up on chair, nose buried in book, cat trying to get in lap, glass of ice tea with melting ice slowly dripping on desk*
Lunchtime...
*sitting at table, nose buried in book, forkful of salad suspended in air and dripping salad dressing on jeans and bare foot, unnoticed until cat starts licking foot*
After lunch...
*nose buried in book, curled on couch on porch, until sense of vague disquiet and the thought that something is being forgotten stirs in occupied brain*
Yes, I remembered to pick up my kids before it was time to pick them up. And in a few minutes, I'm going straight back to Percy Jackson and the Last Olympian. And I'm reading slowly because I want to savour it!! And y'all might actually get some fanart out of this one... maybe...
*curls up on bed again and is lost in book once again*
Monday, May 4, 2009
YAAAAAAAY!!!
Thirteen years ago today, I was driving the Husbandly One nuts every time the door to my hospital room popped or squeaked. I'd sit up and say, "Is she here yet? Have they brought her?"
And he'd groan and say, "No, honey, she's not here yet, for pete's sake, GO BACK TO SLEEP!!" because we'd been up all night the night before.
Over and over, any time a door down the hall opened, my door would squeak, groan, or pop, and I'd sit up and say, "Now? Is she here now??"
And he'd throw a pillow at me.
I should have been exhausted, and I was, but I couldn't sleep. I was drugged up to my eyeballs, but I couldn't close them to save my life. I couldn't sleep, couldn't relax, couldn't do anything until I saw my daughter.
Then the nurses finally brought her into my room, and I held out my arms, and they handed her to me, and I forgot all about everything else as I eagerly unwrapped the blankets and counted every finger, every toe, looked into her face, sniffed her head, and kissed her and said, "Yep, this is my kid," then promptly curled up with her in my arms and went fast asleep.
And the Husbandly One said, "Hey! No fair!! You kept me up ALL NIGHT LONG!! WAKE UP!!"
And the nurses said, "AAAACK! SHE CAN'T SLEEP WITH THE BABY IN HER ARMS!! PUT THE BABY BACK IN THE BASSINET!!"
So the Husbandly One picked the baby up and put her back in the bassinet. Whereupon I promptly sat up, not quite awake, and started reaching and whining for my child. So, he picked her back up, put her back in my arms, and I promptly curled on my side with her in my arms and went right back to sleep. When the nurses freaked, THO said, "My wife wants the baby in her arms, she gets to keep the baby in her arms. They'll both sleep better that way. Now, if you're done here, go find someone else to bother!" So they did.
And so began our adventures with the Impertinent Daughter, who introduced us to the joys and horrors of Parenthood. It has definitely been a rollercoaster ride! And we've enjoyed every single second, even the terrifying ones!!
Happy Birthday, Impertinent Daughter! Love you bunches!!
And he'd groan and say, "No, honey, she's not here yet, for pete's sake, GO BACK TO SLEEP!!" because we'd been up all night the night before.
Over and over, any time a door down the hall opened, my door would squeak, groan, or pop, and I'd sit up and say, "Now? Is she here now??"
And he'd throw a pillow at me.
I should have been exhausted, and I was, but I couldn't sleep. I was drugged up to my eyeballs, but I couldn't close them to save my life. I couldn't sleep, couldn't relax, couldn't do anything until I saw my daughter.
Then the nurses finally brought her into my room, and I held out my arms, and they handed her to me, and I forgot all about everything else as I eagerly unwrapped the blankets and counted every finger, every toe, looked into her face, sniffed her head, and kissed her and said, "Yep, this is my kid," then promptly curled up with her in my arms and went fast asleep.
And the Husbandly One said, "Hey! No fair!! You kept me up ALL NIGHT LONG!! WAKE UP!!"
And the nurses said, "AAAACK! SHE CAN'T SLEEP WITH THE BABY IN HER ARMS!! PUT THE BABY BACK IN THE BASSINET!!"
So the Husbandly One picked the baby up and put her back in the bassinet. Whereupon I promptly sat up, not quite awake, and started reaching and whining for my child. So, he picked her back up, put her back in my arms, and I promptly curled on my side with her in my arms and went right back to sleep. When the nurses freaked, THO said, "My wife wants the baby in her arms, she gets to keep the baby in her arms. They'll both sleep better that way. Now, if you're done here, go find someone else to bother!" So they did.
And so began our adventures with the Impertinent Daughter, who introduced us to the joys and horrors of Parenthood. It has definitely been a rollercoaster ride! And we've enjoyed every single second, even the terrifying ones!!
Happy Birthday, Impertinent Daughter! Love you bunches!!
Monday, April 27, 2009
I think they do it overnight....
Well, after weeks of eating virtually everything in sight, the Impertinent Daughter had a growth spurt and is probably within one to two inches of being as tall as I am.
It hit me when I was watching her referee a game, and she had turned sideways to me. I thought, "Hmmm, the little pudge she was getting seems to be gone..." And I frowned and realized she hadn't eaten like a ravening, starving wolf the last couple of days, and I thought, "Ah... growth spurt." But it didn't sink in until later that afternoon, when we'd gone into San Marcos to get her some new athletic shoes. She was standing there in her socks, and I had just straightened up from listening to something the Impossible Son wanted to tell me and it hit me...
We were almost eye to eye.
The Husbandly One turned at my gasp, and his eyes went wide and he said, "Auntie, take off your shoes."
So I did.
And it was even more apparent.
*shrieks*
And the Impossible Son has had his own growth spurt. His legs are impossibly long right now, and his shorts are far too short all of a sudden. His feet look too big, and he's clumsy. I think he's about to grow again, and I can't help but think, "But, we just bought you three new pairs of jeans!!!"
My kids are both going to be taller than me. And possibly taller than THO, as well.
*sigh*
It hit me when I was watching her referee a game, and she had turned sideways to me. I thought, "Hmmm, the little pudge she was getting seems to be gone..." And I frowned and realized she hadn't eaten like a ravening, starving wolf the last couple of days, and I thought, "Ah... growth spurt." But it didn't sink in until later that afternoon, when we'd gone into San Marcos to get her some new athletic shoes. She was standing there in her socks, and I had just straightened up from listening to something the Impossible Son wanted to tell me and it hit me...
We were almost eye to eye.
The Husbandly One turned at my gasp, and his eyes went wide and he said, "Auntie, take off your shoes."
So I did.
And it was even more apparent.
*shrieks*
And the Impossible Son has had his own growth spurt. His legs are impossibly long right now, and his shorts are far too short all of a sudden. His feet look too big, and he's clumsy. I think he's about to grow again, and I can't help but think, "But, we just bought you three new pairs of jeans!!!"
My kids are both going to be taller than me. And possibly taller than THO, as well.
*sigh*
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Because being crafty comes in handy...
Well, so much for getting to bed early last night.
The Impertinent Daughter informed me at 8 p.m. last night that theDeath Eaters administrators at her school decided that students were no longer allowed to be in possession of... rubber bands. Yes, that's right, folks, the kids are no longer allowed to have those extremely dangerous implements, rubber bands in their pockets, on their binders, in their hair, etc. Because they can use these extremely hazardous items to... launch paper.
*closes eyes, sighs, muttering "Ay-yi-yi" under her breath*
Give me strength, I swear. I'm wondering how many girls who wear ponytails on a regular basis are freaking out this morning because they can't put their hair up?
The reason this impacts us is because of the boxes I chose for my kids' bentos. They are temporary, but for now, they are the right size and depth. Only problem is, they have a tendency to pop open when a kid does something like swing them around, bump them into other kids, or walls, or tables, etc., with the end result of food everywhere. So... I just salvaged the big rubber bands that came with our newspaper and wrapped them around each end of the box... and problem solved.
Until now.
I offered to take some extra wide elastic and sew the ends together for her to replace the rubber bands.
No, that won't work, they still count as "rubber bands."
I said, "Okay, how about I get some fabric and make tubes to cover the elastic, you know, whip the ends together and you can use those? If they fuss, you can say they're headbands and pop one on to prove it!"
"Mom... we can't have headbands, either."
Because... they can be used to... launch paper.
My goodness, I had no idea paper was so... DANGEROUS!!
I brainstormed for a bit, then said, "Okay, fine, I've got some fabric, I'll make a bag."
The Husbandly One said, "That will take too much effort, and you don't have enough time. Besides, your sewing machine is broken, right?"
Well, the bobbin case is... acting up. Driving me nuts, actually. I need to replace it, but you know, at that time of night, it wasn't going to happen. Well, I went to work on my sewing machine, fixed the problem with the thread tension, got the bobbin case to stay put, and dug out the fabric, a roll of parchment, and my sewing box, and got to work.
Yes, I had to make a pattern. And I was up until nearly 2 a.m. working on it, because the bobbin case kept popping out every time the bobbin got too light (too little thread on it), because the handles I was making for the bag didn't turn out right, and I had to figure out how to re-do them, because one of the cats dumped out the entire contents of my sewing box on the floor (I'm still not sure I retrieved it all) and because I had to hand-sew one side of the bag.
But I did it. And I'll have a photo of it later on this afternoon. I would have taken a photo this morning, but the Husbandly One did not inform me he was having to leave early until ten minutes before he was going to leave, and that left me with no time for picture taking at all.
I will say it is not beautiful, or the most attractive bag I've ever made... but it's functional, and when the Impertinent Daughter saw it this morning, rather than being horrified by it, as I was fearing, she was delighted and immediately started drawing on it. She's very proud of it and happy with it, and I am relieved and wish I could very much go back to bed for a few hours BUT...
Miss Priss has a UIL Choir performance this afternoon AND a soccer game immediately after, and it's an away game. And I still have errands to run.
Caffeine... I must ingest mass quantities of caffeine today.
Oh, and I have a battle wound from sewing last night. I sewed my finger. Ouchies!! Next time, I shall be sure to keep my fingers far, far away from the needle!!
*goes in search of caffeine*
The Impertinent Daughter informed me at 8 p.m. last night that the
*closes eyes, sighs, muttering "Ay-yi-yi" under her breath*
Give me strength, I swear. I'm wondering how many girls who wear ponytails on a regular basis are freaking out this morning because they can't put their hair up?
The reason this impacts us is because of the boxes I chose for my kids' bentos. They are temporary, but for now, they are the right size and depth. Only problem is, they have a tendency to pop open when a kid does something like swing them around, bump them into other kids, or walls, or tables, etc., with the end result of food everywhere. So... I just salvaged the big rubber bands that came with our newspaper and wrapped them around each end of the box... and problem solved.
Until now.
I offered to take some extra wide elastic and sew the ends together for her to replace the rubber bands.
No, that won't work, they still count as "rubber bands."
I said, "Okay, how about I get some fabric and make tubes to cover the elastic, you know, whip the ends together and you can use those? If they fuss, you can say they're headbands and pop one on to prove it!"
"Mom... we can't have headbands, either."
Because... they can be used to... launch paper.
My goodness, I had no idea paper was so... DANGEROUS!!
I brainstormed for a bit, then said, "Okay, fine, I've got some fabric, I'll make a bag."
The Husbandly One said, "That will take too much effort, and you don't have enough time. Besides, your sewing machine is broken, right?"
Well, the bobbin case is... acting up. Driving me nuts, actually. I need to replace it, but you know, at that time of night, it wasn't going to happen. Well, I went to work on my sewing machine, fixed the problem with the thread tension, got the bobbin case to stay put, and dug out the fabric, a roll of parchment, and my sewing box, and got to work.
Yes, I had to make a pattern. And I was up until nearly 2 a.m. working on it, because the bobbin case kept popping out every time the bobbin got too light (too little thread on it), because the handles I was making for the bag didn't turn out right, and I had to figure out how to re-do them, because one of the cats dumped out the entire contents of my sewing box on the floor (I'm still not sure I retrieved it all) and because I had to hand-sew one side of the bag.
But I did it. And I'll have a photo of it later on this afternoon. I would have taken a photo this morning, but the Husbandly One did not inform me he was having to leave early until ten minutes before he was going to leave, and that left me with no time for picture taking at all.
I will say it is not beautiful, or the most attractive bag I've ever made... but it's functional, and when the Impertinent Daughter saw it this morning, rather than being horrified by it, as I was fearing, she was delighted and immediately started drawing on it. She's very proud of it and happy with it, and I am relieved and wish I could very much go back to bed for a few hours BUT...
Miss Priss has a UIL Choir performance this afternoon AND a soccer game immediately after, and it's an away game. And I still have errands to run.
Caffeine... I must ingest mass quantities of caffeine today.
Oh, and I have a battle wound from sewing last night. I sewed my finger. Ouchies!! Next time, I shall be sure to keep my fingers far, far away from the needle!!
*goes in search of caffeine*
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