Monthly Archives: June 2010

7 Quick Takes – Anniblogary edition

1. I’ve been at this for one whole year. Way to go, blog. I now have slightly more memories of the past year than I do of the ones that preceded it! Well, except for the middle and high school years. I kept journals. There is a very large Rubbermaid tote marked ANGST in my closet, and opening it would probably be a very bad idea.

2. We are taking Vio to see Toy Story 3 tonight. It will be her first movie-going experience. From what I’ve heard about the movie, I’m packing tissues, a blanket, and my mommy. I already have issues with feeling like the toys have FEELINGS, and these movies do nothing to quell that nonsense. I mentioned this on Twitter last night, and I got this response:

PSYCHO CREEPY BABY DOLL.

I’m going to have to be swaddled.

3. Matt and I are going to Busch Gardens this weekend with my brother and his girlfriend. And NONE children! I fear they will talk me into doing this again:

If she’d snapped the picture one half-second later, for the actual 90-degree 200-foot drop, you would have been able to see my life flashing before my eyes in mpeg form behind my glasses.

4. I sure am painting myself with the bravery brush today, eh? Well I took a spider outside today ALL BY MYSELF. So there.

5. Fine, it was the size of an obese ant. And when I was at the front door turning the knob with the paper-covered cup o’ spider in my other hand, Vio rolled a block through my peripheral line of sight and I AUDIBLY GASPED and scared the poor child because I somehow thought I’d dropped the spider and outrun it in the process.

What a block posing as a spider may look like.

6. I forgot to mention a vital bit of information in my traumatic grocery store trip post — namely, that I was caught without my wallet between leaving it in the pee-car and being defenseless in Publix. I took Vio to the mall this weekend to pick out a birthday present for her great-grandmother, and had to leave the gift at the register. So there is seriously no excuse for the idiocy that befell me that day. THAT FATEFUL DAY.

7. Really, a year of this nonsense? Thanks for reading, beauties. You deserve prizes and your own personal Santas to deliver them.

More quick takes here.

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Girl Talk Thursday – Retro kitchen stuff and something shiny

This week over at Girl Talk Thursday, Maria has tasked us all with spending $100 in Pretend Internet Monies.

If you’ve spent much time here, you are aware that Pretend Internet Monies are the only kind of monies I’m likely to spend on myself. If I saw any of these items in an actual store, I’d talk myself out of buying them before I got to the register.

Which doesn’t change the fact that I really, really want them right now.


1. Vintage coaster set, Etsy. $9.99. I’ve been all over the place looking for some new coasters to protect our fancy LACK tables from IKEA. The cloth diaper we’re currently using just doesn’t say WIN like I’d prefer. This set is perfect. And I bet it would keep Roo occupied for a good 20 minutes just emptying them and putting them back in the case. (A case! I can TIDY the coasters! This excites me.)

2. Vintage red quilted bib apron, Etsy. $6.50. I have one apron that used to be my grandmother’s, and it’s my absolute favorite thing. The only problem is it’s a half apron, and I am a Messy Marvin. Basically I need a smock.

3. Vintage Pyrex gravy boat, Etsy. $9.50. I could have filled up this whole thing with vintage Pyrex dishes. From back in the day when Pyrex didn’t explode in the oven! So many colors and cute patterns. Love love love.

4. Vic Firth Maple Rolling Pin (French), Amazon. $14. My current rolling pin is of the devil. There is no other explanation. With this and the next item, I might be capable of rolling out tortillas or a pie crust without feeling like I may as well be baking in a van down by the river.

5. World Cuisine Nonstick Pastry Mat, Amazon. $32.64. This one would be the biggest splurge, because I already have a Silpat that I could use for this purpose. But it’s a little small for rolling out more than something small, so I covet.

6. Hand-stamped necklace, Etsy. $28. I would adore this necklace with my girls’ names stamped on the two discs. I’m not all that into jewelry, but this is just simple enough to appeal to me. (Definitely the box chain, though. The ball chain seems a little Teen Rebel to me.)

(Shut it, that’s totally how teens rebel. They wear ball chains and stay up past 10 and chew sugary gum.)

Adding that up, it works out to . . . $100.63. I lose at the Price is Right, but I win at pretty much everything else.

So what would you spend $100 on rightthissecond?

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The universe knew I was sitting on my 100th post, so it threw me something special

On Monday, I went to the grocery store.

It was one of those perfect storms of horribleness, and when I started thinking up how I’d write this all down (because, let’s face it, if ANYTHING sort of terrifying happens, the silver lining is that you get to blog about it) I realized I needed to back things up to Saturday morning.

Saturday morning, Vio peed on the floor at Target. WHILE I was picking out new underwear for her, I might add. Not because of a sense of impending pee, of course, but because she’s been potty-trained for nearly a year now, and she’s pretty much outgrown the 2T/3T Dora and Princess underpants of yore. Matt was chasing Roo up and down the aisle, and I looked back at Vio to show her the choices. This child was in the throes of a (silent) pee-pee-dance, complete with leg-crossing and crotch-grabbing. And now we had pee on the floor, in a store. Nothing in my purse to wipe it up (it was seriously about two drops), and the Invisible Authority figures were surely zoning in. Matt ran Vio off to the bathroom while I paced around looking for an employee to wave down. No one!

So I ran.

Well, I abandoned the scene of the crime and ran up to pay for our stuff so Vio could put on some clean underwear. I juggled the bag and my purse and my wallet and the baby and got them out to the car where Matt was situating Vio. I dropped all my stuff on the floor, got Vio changed, and Matt went back in and wiped up The Evidence.

I really shouldn’t go places without my husband.

We have this routine where we usually do the week’s grocery shopping all together on Sunday mornings. You know, in the interest of me not going places ALONE, when bad things are sure to happen.  With Father’s Day and all that, we switched things up. Matt dropped me off at Publix while he took the girls to the library and the park on Monday afternoon. He made sure I had my phone and that it was charged. Because I rarely have my phone, and when I do, it is mostly not charged.

Anyhoogle, it’s amazing how relaxing the grocery store can be when you’re there by yourself. (Well, unless your husband’s high school crush is there roaming the aisles again and you’re skirting behind the canned goods to avoid making totally polite conversation NOT THAT THIS EVER HAPPENED.) I took my time picking out produce and reading labels, snail’s-pacing my way up and down each aisle. Last stop was the fish counter, after which I pulled out my phone to let Matt know I was about to checkout, thus minimizing the time the meats had to spoil. I AM BRILLIANT, I thought.

I mean, I was brilliant, until I dialed his number, and instead of RIIINNNNGNNNGGG in my ear, I hear, “We’re sorry. This T-Mobile pre-paid phone does not have enough minutes to complete the call.”

Oh. Well. Hmm.

(The T-Mobile situation isn’t really that relevant to the story, but as a bit of an aside, it wasn’t that I’d used all my minutes. They expire after a year or whatever, and they were set to expire THAT DAY. THAT VERY DAY.)

But! Not that big a deal, right? Because surely he’ll realize I should have called by now and he’ll just come pick me up. And there’s probably a pay phone, if not. I think? Some places still have those. So I went to grab my wallet to see if I had change or if I’d need to get cash back, and …

No. There was no wallet in that purse. Because the wallet was still on the floor of the van where I dropped it on Saturday after the peeing incident.

Now I had no phone, no money, and I was in the middle of a grocery store. Which is like the worst place to have to wither away and die of abandonment, because there is food everywhere THAT I CANNOT PAY FOR.

I fumbled around with the phone, trying to remember the number to call to add minutes. Which of course I could not. So I poked around in the useless stupid thing and still found nothing. I like to imagine I looked like I was having a huge text fight with someone to all passersby. I finally texted the number to get my minute balance, which THANKFULLY white-knighted with the number for minute-adding.

Of course, now I was trying to refill my minutes with no credit card in front of me. I tapped into the Little Grey part of my brain until I found the snapshot of the number. Though I kept entering it in incorrectly from memory. SO I HAD TO WRITE IT DOWN ON A PIECE OF PAPER. Because that is 1. literally the only way I could get the number from my brain into the phone, and 2. the smartest thing you can ever do with a credit card number.

Finally, though, the number was in.

And then I hung up on the call. Because I hit END instead of #. Because I win at cell phones.

(Through all of this I never once considered just going to customer service and asking if I could use the phone. The whole “I don’t have my wallet AND my phone just ran out of minutes today!” thing seemed like such a likely story, you know?)

Finally got some minutes added, and the phone started ringing IMMEDIATELY.

It was Matt calling to (helpfully) let me know my wallet was in the van.

YA DON’T SAY.

Seriously. Never leaving the house by myself AGAIN.

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7 Quick Takes – Summer is here!

1. How are we already halfway through June? In the next two and a half weeks, we’ve got Father’s Day, my blog turns 1, my marriage turns 7 (anyone else feeling itchy?), I turn 29 (for the FIRST time, thank you very much), and the US turns, like, a million or whatever. Mostly I’m interested in the fireworks and perhaps a cake in the shape of a flag. I’m a little bit tired just thinking about it.

2. Then August comes, and August is just a parade of birthdays. Vio shares hers with two other relatives, and it’s the same week as Matt’s and about two weeks before my mom’s. We like to call it Cake Week. Also, apparently by Matt’s birthday, I’ll be able to run 30 minutes without stopping. If you’ll please excuse me, I will spend the next 30 minutes laughing without stopping. Which is probably just as good, you know?

3. But then! The worst thing happens! In that my baby, my Vio, who will be 4, will be starting pre-K. I don’t have any idea who authorized this. I have a whole post written in my head about how this is Making Me Feel (which is mostly: Old, and also: Sad) so look for that some time around … well, I hit publish on it in my BRAIN like a week ago.

4. Speaking of posts written in my head, I have a whole one about Roo and her talking. Her non-stop always talking that makes me want to freeze time just so I can sit and listen to her. Everyone told us to expect the second to be far less verbal, but so far she is giving her big sister a run for her money. Last week Vio spent a good 15 minutes just asking Roo yes-or-no questions to see what she would say. Conversations! Between my children! I’ve wiggled my nose and clicked my heels and all those other magic things, but so far the time just keeps moving.

5. Vio started swimming lessons this week, which was LONG overdue. I was nervous because parents sit in Another Room, and she hasn’t really done anything without us yet. If she’s not with us, she’s with another adult who would throw himself in front of a bus for her, so she’s not really used to being only a semi-precious snowflake. She did amazingly well, though, which is helping calm my fears about pre-K in the fall.

6. For once in her sweet life, Roo fell and smacked her face the day AFTER a doctor’s appointment instead of the day before. Right into the molding around the bathroom door. So it looks a little bit like she got into a scratch fight with a wombat or maybe got slapped by someone with a doll-sized hand. Then she stepped on a dollhouse table and scraped the bottom of her foot. Sorry, sweetie, but you got your mama’s grace.

7. For a very long time I thought I didn’t like dark chocolate. That was really stupid of me.

More quick takes here.

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But this is the last time I’m going to talk about it. You can go ahead and assume I already quit.

There are a lot of things I don’t like to talk about on the internet.

My brain tells me I should follow that up with examples, but then I’d be talking about things I don’t like to talk about. Then it gets confused and asks for some more marshmallows.

Last week I downloaded the Couch to 5K app. I wasn’t sure if I was going to do it or not, but one thing I DID decide was that I wasn’t going to talk about it on the internet.

You know how you aren’t supposed to blog or tweet about sleep? Like, if your kids are FINALLY sleeping through the night, you should never talk about that on the internet, because the Rule of the Internet is that things will swing back the other way and slap you in your face.

I’m not superstitious; this is just sound reasoning.

I think this rule applies to more than just sleep. The surest way for me to stop doing or start failing at something is to publicly discuss my progress. A month or two ago, I commented on a blog post of Arwen’s that I had gotten into the rhythm of cleaning the kitchen and getting all the dishes done every evening before going to bed. It was the key to getting my day off to a good start: a nice, tidy kitchen. I’d been at it nearly a month when I dared type my self-congratulatory comment, but that night? The dishes went undone.

See? THE INTERNET is to blame. Obviously.

But, you guys. I started today, and (as often happens when one actually leaves the house) I have a story to share.

The one thing that had me the most nervous about doing this wasn’t really dropping dead in the Florida heat (I went out at 7AM and it was already 85 degrees); that would be upsetting, but not the end of the world.

Well, the end of MY world, I suppose.

No, my fear was people seeing me, huffing and puffing along in my nerdy long shorts and sweaty gross ponytail, obviously laughing because HA HA EXERCISING IS HYSTERICAL.

It doesn’t actually make much sense, I know, but neither does my fear of dead insects.

My dear husband who has gone running in the mornings before (read: for about a month nearly two years ago) assured me that he rarely passed anyone on the running/biking trail near our house. Trusting him, because that is just good marriage, I went on my merry way.

I should probably mention at some point that I chose to do this without my glasses. They slip down my face and generally annoy me during any sort of physical activity, and I figured vision is overrated. This would just make me an extra badass. “Oh, you did Couch to 5k? Did you do it with 20/90 vision? THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT.”

Dude, anyone could do that with perfect vision. What would even be the point, you know?

But I can see pretty well without them.

I made my way down the trail passing only a few people. No big deal! I can do this! As I neared where the path hits a main road (which is my turn around point, because: VEHICLES) I noticed what appeared to be a large group of people. I say APPEARED, because it was just a big fuzzy blur of white and red. I decided I’d seen just about enough of that, thank you very much, and turned back early.

I was about halfway through the (oh my! 31 minute!) workout, sweat pouring down my bright red face, when I heard the sound of hoofbeats OVER my blaring Lady Gaga. Since I wasn’t wearing my glasses, I wasn’t quite certain if they were cyborgs or zombies or just dudes who coordinate their shorts for kicks, but they were passing me at about a 7-minute pace, and they JUST KEPT COMING. Even the stragglers were outrunning me. The stragglers.

Because I knew all along that I was going to be slow, I spent my entire run/walk on the very edge of the path. Not only were they passing me on my left, they were coming around my right, running IN A DITCH, to get around me faster. And as we approached the spot on the trail that was a mile up from their gathering place, they turned around and started running back. At me. The big, blurry mob of ghostrunners. HIGH-FIVING one another.

When I got home and spat out the words “ROTC GUYS EVERYWHERE,” Matt suddenly remembered, “Oh yeahhh. I remember seeing them.”

And that, my friends, is not good marriage.

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