Showing posts with label fun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fun. Show all posts

Friday, July 23, 2010

My Lost Week

So, I forgot that my blog does not transmit directly from my head (if someone could invent that I'd really appreciate it, 'kay).  I must now attempt to recap, without getting all epic in length or sacrificing my charming story telling style.

My niece and nephew came to visit. They normally reside in Arizona, where I've been told the heat is dry and the scorpions are like 99% guaranteed NOT to get in your house.  Mosquitoes and humidity were a frequent topic of concern for the kids, especially the boy, who seemed to have a leaky faucet attached to the top of his skull and a new welt every 10 minutes.


Violet had a birthday and a party and got very little direct attention from her mother for approximately 6 days and appears to be unharmed by the experience. Of course, she crawled into my bed almost every night, so I guess I shouldn't start weeping for the loss of my sweet, needy baby just yet.


This innocent fun is totally and completely illegal in Arizona. Like, zero tolerance illegal, not Ohio (we look the other way one weekend a year) illegal. The box of cheap sparklers we bought could potentially burn down the whole state.  The kids were elated and felt like they were doing something naughty. It was pretty entertaining to watch.

We also spent a day at the water park, for which there are mercifully no photographs. Aaron and I brought home black and blue souvenirs on the shoulder and ass respectively.  Water slides really are built for young people. Violet learned that the lazy river is a dangerous hazard, where you cannot even trust your own mother to prevent you from drowning. Also...peeing in pools is totally okay in Grandma's book, but that's a post for another day. 


We left the water park just as it started to storm and headed straight to the refuge of Bob Evans, which is an Ohio temple of senior citizen cuisine and all-day breakfast. The girl was excited to try something new and by "new" I mean enough food to feed a girls' softball team. She ate bacon, eggs, potatoes, stuffed cinnamon pancakes, one of her brother's chicken fingers and a hunk of my chicken fried steak. It was a sight to behold!
We went bowling.  We walked. We dressed the girl up in my senior prom dress and forced her to pose for pictures in the 90 degree heat. We visited the art museum and played corn hole. We got comic books and made photo albums and schemed about ways to make money for future plane tickets. We watched challenging movies and talked about important stuff and stupid stuff equally. There was some farting and squabbling and whining, but it was a good time.

Today, I packed them up and sent them back and tried not to cry.

The End.
 

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Alphabet Hop

Because I am a long standing member of the geek community, I have a copy of the game Scattergories. The game comes with a 26 sided alphabet die, that is perfect for all sorts of letter related mayhem. 

The first game I invented is called Alphabet Hop.  Roll the die and hop to the letter that comes up.







Even the dog can play. 

Friday, January 8, 2010

Not Living Up to Her Middle Name

My daughter's middle name is Picabo, as in Picabo Street; the well decorated Olympic downhill skier.  Because I am a great lover of winter sports as viewed from my warm couch, I became enamored of Picabo during her final games. If she had won her last gold medal, Violet's first and middle names might have been reversed.  I did some skiing of my own in high school, but with age I have gained not only wisdom, but a much lower tolerance for extreme temperatures.  I could go all winter without so much as a passing urge to play in the snow, but I am not 4 years old and suffering from cabin fever.  Yesterday, Aaron made a sledding play date for Violet with our neighborhood friends. This was fine despite Violet's lack of winter wear or a sled, because these friends were going to share their gear.  Well, vomit happens and the play date got canceled.

I might have breathed a sigh of relief, but Daddy decided that we could go sledding by ourselves.  We just needed to stop at Walmart and pick up a sled.  I suspected that Walmart would fail us, as it always does, and gathered a few items to use as makeshift sleds (southern Ohio stores are notorious for not stocking sleds).  Why not turn this into a homeschool lesson about what will hurl you down a hill and what will not?



 An oversized IKEA shopping bag with cardboard stuffed in the bottom will NOT send you down the hill.


Nope. Still doesn't work.  Also note: lids from Rubbermaid containers do NOT make good sleds.


You know what does work?  Sleds borrowed from nice teenagers who try not to laugh at your pathetic attempts to sled with random household objects.



Borrowed sleds actually work too well. The once fearless Violet began to rethink her whole daredevil lifestyle.  Hurtling down a frozen hill at breakneck speed with a 200 pound man is apparently my daughter's threshold for terror.

Aaron ended up pulling Violet around in a laundry basket (I told you. Random household objects.) She was too traumatized to use the real sled again*. 






*Furthermore, she was too cold.  Her stylish faux suede coat and boots were no match for the wet snow, despite the grocery bag liners I expertly stuffed her feet into. We lasted 20 minutes on that hill.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Christmas In a Nutshell

'Twas the Night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was sleeping...because mother and child have a genetic commonality that makes it impossible to turn one's brain off after reaching a certain critical mass of anticipation. There was no way that was ever going to rhyme, but like I said I haven't gotten enough sleep in the last 10 days, so I'm a bit punchy.

I engaged in a crafting sprint to the finish on Christmas Eve. Photo cubes, magic wands, monkeys and matching nightgowns for Vi, Knuffle Bunny and Baby Rojo.



It was my intent to totally exhaust myself, so that I would fall asleep easily, but it didn't work.  We were awake at 5:30 AM on Christmas.  The smell of my crockpot breakfast casserole probably did not make it any easier to stay in bed, so we all stumbled down the steps at 6 to see what the big guy left us.



I was an orgy of wrapping paper and glitter. The glitter has been so thoroughly tracked through my house that I am now finding it in my underwear.  NEVER leave a craft happy four year old alone in a room with a vial of gold glitter.  Daddy has born the brunt of the glitter onslaught, largely due to his Christmas bling.


Violet said Daddy needed a "big ol' Daddy necklace" for Christmas. Done.

Mommy got this little hunk of high tech crack after Daddy bullied T-Mobile into letting us upgrade a month ahead of schedule.


It's a Samsung Memoir and IT IS FULLY AWESOME!

Despite family wide fatigue, we continued the day's festivities with my in-laws.  There were more presents there and Violet and her cousin showed definite signs of Holiday PTSD.  Fabulous gifts were unwrapped and met with cold, blank stares. Later, the girls could be seen rending their garments and crying out for a nap.

The monkeys were a big hit though and my faith in love and humanity was restored.


I was asked by Aaron's Aunt to take family portraits for her.  I'm telling you. You buy a big fancy camera and suddenly everyone recognizes your artistic genius.  They turned out nice, but I'm not going to out the in-laws online, so here is the photo I am sure certain people wish we would have used on our Christmas card.


Notice how my child looks like a drunk sorority girl after a Halloween party. That's when you know it is time to go home and take a rest, before the next round of gifts.



Christmas continues for us this coming weekend, when the out of town presents get opened at my Aunt's house.  Hopefully, Violet will sober up by then.  For now, she's recuperating with her most extravagant gift.




Oh, and this also happens to be my 400th post.  Thanks for reading and commenting and generally validating my very existence.  There will be many more to come in 2010, unless someone convinces me to shut up. 

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Then and Now Thursday

I love amusement parks.  Growing up, trips to Cedar Point in Sandusky, Ohio were the only vacations we ever took.  My parents were also extremely practical about the trips.  We never stayed in a hotel, or bought souvenirs. Not even the keyhole photos they take of you when you enter the park.  As a teenager, with my own discretionary income, the first thing I did was buy a souvenir keychain.

 
Circa 1995. 
I'm the girl on the right being strangled and yes I actually took this photo through the little eyepiece on my key chain souvenir.  Notice, my best friend and I have included the requisite flannel shirts in our wardrobes for the day. 
Last week, my best mommy friend and I took our girls to King's Island.  Our trip was much different from the trips of my youth.  For one thing, we had to drag along a breast pump (not for me) and make time to use it throughout the day.  Luckily, we looked so innocent at the gate, no one checked our bags.  We were relieved, but we also would have enjoyed the embarrassed look on the security guard's face.  Would you like me to demonstrate, sir? We also had to employ two babysitters in separate locations to take care of my friend's other children. When I was a teenager our biggest problem was figuring out gas money.  We fought hard for this day to happen.

  
We did get our picture taken, but by a kind stranger and not an employee of the park. We didn't ride everything, but the kids got to go on whatever they wanted, as many times as they could stand it. A passing storm cleared the cowards out of the park and we didn't wait in line all day.   Oh, and we did buy one souvenir. I just couldn't help myself.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Clearly, Costumes Make Any Festival More Fun

Aaron and I accidentally ended up at the Celtic Festival last night.  Yeah, we're so hip and clued in to the summer scene that we thought we'd go downtown and do some quiet geocaching.

Um, where the hell did all these people come from? And why are they all in costume?


Serendipity is a wonderful thing and we actually ran into some friends who were way ahead of us the inebriation department.  We listened to some gaelic music and our friends nearly rioted when one of the bands had the audacity to play non-irish party music.  Of course, these friends also passed up fish and chips in favor of gyros for dinner, so....whatever...
I had no child with me to worry about losing in the crowd, so I took a lot of pictures of the folks who were having way more fun than us.

 
  
  
 

Related Posts Widget for Blogs by LinkWithin