Heathen Family Revival: family life

Showing posts with label family life. Show all posts

Showing posts with label family life. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

I've Got a Lot of Balls...in the air

This week we started kindergarten and it is way harder than I thought it was going to be, so I may have to start drinking in the evening. Violet is enrolled in a virtual charter school. I know some homeschoolers will say I have sold out to the man, but when the man provides ALL the books AND a computer AND an internet stipend, he's pretty hard to resist. I LOVE free shit! Anywho, I am still working out how to make this curriculum bend to my will, so I may be a bit of a ghost.

I got myself a few photo gigs and I have been juggling school work and photoshop work and housework and that has left me very little time to read blogs or write blogs or even fantasize about posts in my head. I have set a goal of writing one post a week and I am going to pare down my blog reader to the bare bones. Don't worry. If you are reading this, I will probably continue to read your blog.

I started going to a belly dancing class with my friend E and that has been fun and challenging, without making me want to kill the instructor. I highly recommend it. It is a subtle art form, so there is ZERO workout culture, pep-talking. I hate that crap.

We are now official members of a large learning co-op, as well as a preK co-op......soooooo, I find myself busier than I have been in a looong time. Remember, I don't multi-task well.

Here's where I drop the bomb.

I am going to discontinue Wardrobe Wednesday. It has run its course for me and it's time to move on. If anyone would like to take it over, let me know and I will link to your blog and send participants your way.

M'kay?

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Thursday, August 5, 2010

I Like a Man with Exceptional Fine Motor Control

My husband spends a lot of his day pretending to be an asshole. His job involves keeping bad people away from good people and that is not an occupation for the faint of heart. Asshole is part of the job description. Seriously. I read the contract.*

Recently, the stress of work has been following Aaron home. Really, it trails him like an annoying neighbor kid who just can't seem to get the message that he isn't wanted. The stress makes Aaron sensitive and that makes me sensitive and before you know it everyone is suffering from a digestive complaint and a 3-day migraine. I beg. I nag. I plead with my husband to find something, anything to do that might help him de-stress. A real, old-fashioned hobby, involving his hands and various 3 dimensional supplies.**

He found one.

I nag because I care... and because it works.

87 paper cranes were hanging in my living room this morning. He wanted it to be an even 100, but his hands gave out. It took 7 hours to fold them and 3 hours to hang them. It took me about 30 seconds to start crying.

*No I didn't!
**Video games do not count as a hobby. Sorry. Nope.

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Wardrobe Wednesday

This is Violet's costuming vision for her 5th birthday party. Polka dot backdrop optional. She is full of ideas lately.

Some random quotes from my dotty little girl:

"Mary! You are not a ghost. Look in the mirror." Mary is a white, stuffed dog.

"Boobies are funny." Said from the toilet, as she watched me get in the shower.

"Ouch! Mama, you need to clean this room. I stepped on this thing and it hurt." She said this after totally rejecting the verity of my own injury in her messy room.

"Mary stayed awake all night! She is teaching all the other animals to stay up all night!"

"Mama!! I slept in my clothes. I looked down this morning and I was like, OH My God! I never put pajamas on."

"That toothpaste is too spicy." We ran out of her mild, mint kid paste and she had to use the grown up stuff.

"Actually...Mary hates all animals...but only zoo animals." The word actually is a favorite of Violet's.

What have your kids been saying lately?

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Toy Story 3: Al Fresco

Living in Ohio has a few perks. We get to "enjoy" four seasons of weather and, strange as it may seem, our state is tied for the most working drive-in movie theaters in the country. Ohioans enjoy bringing their own snacks and citronella candles to the cinema. The Heathen Family is no exception.

Last night, in the shadow of the runway at Wright-Patterson Air Force base, we saw Toy Story 3. I mention the runway because at one point during the movie a cargo plane took off and I missed a bit of dialogue. No matter. It's all part of the drive-in experience. Also, gale force wind and rain, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

When last we left our intrepid toys, they were choosing to embrace love and life with a child, over a sterile eternity under museum glass. In Toy Story 3, Woody and the gang face the inevitable consequences of their decision. Andy is all grown-up and leaving for college. No more playtime.

I laughed, I cried....I packed up all of my stuff in the middle of the movie because the wind started to blow really hard and the rain threatened to soak us... I ~~would~~ will see it again and again.

Actually, the rain abated and we watched the rest of the movie inside the car. The drops on the windshield made for a less than hi-def experience, but at that point it didn't matter much. Woody was in trouble, serious trouble. All we cared about was making sure he was okay. Violet was vibrating with agitation. She experiences new movies with her whole being.

Do you remember the scene in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves where Robin is trying to rescue the Sherwood Forest gang from a hanging? Maid Marion suddenly lets out with a blood curdling "ROBIN!!!!!" It's the best, most visceral scream I've ever heard in a movie that didn't involve sleep away camp. Anywho, that is what Violet sounded like as she screamed, "WOODY!!!!" during the most terrifying scene in the movie.

Here's the ONLY clip I could find containing said scream from Robin Hood. It happens at the 55 second mark, if you want to fast forward past Kevin Costner looking worried and shooting arrows. I'll totally judge you for skipping the deliciousness that is early 90s cinema, but whatever. Just imagine Violet's rumpled little head in place of Mary Elizabeth Mastran-whatsherface and you'll have a close approximation of last night's wail from the back seat.

So yeah, go see TS3 and then stick your hand in the $5 bin at Wal-Mart and pull out a copy of Robin Hood, because that kind of nostalgia is intoxicating. Don't believe me? Visit this link* and prepare to be transported back to the land of mullets and the first Gulf War.

*This is totally a Bryan Adams video and I would have embedded it, you know for your convenience and all, but some Canadian has let fame go to his head and won't allow me to do that.

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Friday, May 7, 2010

Boys and Girls

Violet has a lot of girlfriends. It is no coincidence that I am also friends with the mothers of these girls. Which came first, the kid-ship or the Mama-ship? I just invented two words. There lies the problem.

Violet has complained long and loud about not having anyone to play with. Oh sure, we have playdates, but that isn't what she means and it has taken me a long time to figure out why. Those playdates, really are like date dates. They are sometimes forced. They are sometimes too long. More importantly, they are always chaperoned.

Playdates with Vi's girlfriends double as Mommy dates. We don't mean to hover, but with eager younger siblings and needy babies and other mitigating circumstances, the playdates end up being too....well, supervised. Kids need to run free and misbehave in benign ways. They need the space to learn how to get away with stuff, like dumping clods of dirt on each others head. They also need to learn how to make it known that they don't like the dirt shower, with their own voice.

**********************************************************************************

The boys moved in next door almost 2 years ago. We've always been friendly. Their Mom is pretty cool, but we each have shit to do and time passes and you just never get around to bringing over that welcome-to-the-neighborhood coffee cake. No matter. Small children can smell each other. They sense a willing playmate from a mile away and no fence will keep them apart.

Our neighborhood is "colorful" and I have always been a bit "paranoid", so we have a high chain-link fence around our whole yard and each of the gates has a padlock. This keeps the marauding thieves from stealing my recyclables and broken lawn mower, but is also keeps other children out of my yard. Until the boys came along, I was just fine with keeping the local spawn out of my yard (remember Hannah?).

The boys would not be kept out of the yard. I spied them scaling the fence and decided to unlock the gates and let them in. They are a bit older than Violet, but they are sweet and funny and appropriately gentle with their preschool playmate; without treating her like something fragile.

And so, the tables have turned. Violet and "her boys" have forced us Mommies to get to know each other better. Last night, I stood in my steeply angled front yard and leaned on the decorative fence chatting with my new friend, while our children did things we would probably tell them not to do if we were really paying attention.

Long after the kids should have been embarking on their nightly rituals, we said goodbye and went in the house. Violet paused in the living room for a moment, a layer of dirt visible on her scalp and said, "I miss the boys."

I think it's going to be a nice summer.

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Monday, April 26, 2010

It's Veruca, Miss Salt if You're Spoiled

You can buy this photo, if you want to.

Along with the whining and general hyper-drive melodrama that has afflicted my child as of late, there is now evidence of spoilage. In fact, Violet has begun to reek like expired cottage cheese. You know, the tub that has been waiting like a bomb in the back of the fridge since before President Obama was inaugurated, that's what Violet has become.

Last week, we were ~~reading magazines for free~~ browsing at our local bookstore and Violet became entranced by the ever growing pile of non-book garbage that clogs the entry way at said "book" store. I referred to this stuff as junk and assured her that she did not need any of it. She became enraged. Her tiny foot struck the faux marble floor with great force and she proclaimed, "It's NOT junk!" I countered with, "It is SO junk!" and things kind of devolved from there. The semantic argument about junk has raged on ever since. I say, "You have enough junk in your room," and Violet replies, "Don't call my toys junk!"

Back to the bookstore: On our last visit, there was a small poodle in it's very own purse that struck Violet's fancy. There are just as many plushies as there are picture books at this store, so we usually have to make a refusal or two, before Violet gets the picture and shuts her mouth. I can accept her mooning about some toy du' jour, but she was relentless about this poodle. She used every word in her vocabulary to make it known that she wanted this stupid dog. She begged, she whined and eventually she just threw herself down and cried about it. I was horrified, not because someone might see and get all judgy about our parenting, but because this toy was soooo not worth a tantrum of this magnitude. If the item in question had been a Coraline doll (her absolute favorite movie), or a 5T replica of Tiana's gown from The Princess and the Frog; I could totally understand Violet's explosion of fury, but the poodle was scarcely bigger than my cellphone and apropos of nothing dear to her heart.

It was at that moment that I realized what was actually going on. Violet doesn't understand that we are in a recession...

Seriously, my kid is spoiled and I have no one to blame but ~~my mother-in-law~~ myself. I knew it was a risk. She is an only child and an only grandchild and fantastically (almost grotesquely) adorable. I just assumed that I would be able to easily squelch her emotional tyranny with a logical conversation about the difference between needs and wants; instead I find myself having arguments about what constitutes "junk" in our household.

I am hoping that 4 years and 9 months is a hot spot for childhood narcissism and that I can look forward to easier days ahead. I can't take much more of this Veruca Salt nonsense.

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Wardrobe Wednesday

Violet said, "I want this skull Mama. Put it right here."

She is no longer the simple creature who only wanted warmth and milk and a dry behind. The easily persuaded Mistress of Pink is fading. I am starting to see something new peek out around the edges. Not a Big Girl (that decidedly condescending term for the small and recently toilet trained), but just a girl.

Her moods are stormier, her limbs more difficult to fit into the small space of my lap. I now groan involuntarily when I pick her up. I don't have to pretend that she is heavy anymore. Violet flirts constantly with that terrible edge overlooking the land of insufferable brattiness. Everyday, she touches the line and then sprints back to more lovable territory. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Fort DRAMA

Yesterday was a Terrible. Horrible. No Good. Very Bad Day.

Violet was fine, Aaron was fine, but I was a walking raw nerve. I was a caricature of hormonal bitchiness. I finally told Violet that I was in a VERY bad mood and although it was not her fault, she should probably obey my every command without complaint. Violet hugged me and then ran away.

Sigh.

After a hideous bedtime routine (complete with a few breaks for deep breathing), I fixed myself a drink and called it a night. I rarely stretch out an estrogen rampage to two days, so I figured going to bed was the best solution.

In the morning Violet began reconstructing the blanket fort that she has been obsessed with for three days. I was feeling much better and, at first, her whiny private speech didn't bother me. I offered words of encouragement and went about my business. Violet continued to grouse about the fort. It wasn't right. It was messed up. The cats wouldn't get out. It kept collapsing. I started taking deep breaths.

I tried to get Violet to work out her structural issues on her own, but she claimed it was too hard. I asked her to remember how the fort looked yesterday, but that was too hard as well. That's when she channeled Macho Man Randy Savage*, picked up a chair and slammed it down in an explosion of rage. I shouted, UNACCEPTABLE! WE DON'T THROW THINGS! and a few other embarrassing parental edicts before remanding Violet to the custody of the time-out chair.

Violet was seething. I would not have been surprised to see steam come out of her nostrils, along with the river of angry snot. I made an honorable attempt at leading her in guided meditation. For a moment Violet calmed down enough to tell me she was floating on a circle shaped cloud. Meditating has worked in the past, but this time it didn't take. She just couldn't keep it together and I was forced to abandon ship. I went upstairs and sat in my bed, while she threw a full body tantrum on the living room floor. My raw nerve was bubbling up to the surface again. It took everything I had to not start shrieking at the top of my lungs in harmony with Violet. I felt a primordial urge to out shout her.

The tantrum went on for about 10 minutes and then it got very quiet. Violet observed a full minute of silence before she started up again, this time with heart-wrenching pleas for cuddles and kisses. Such was my state that I couldn't just go to her. I shouted that she would have to be quiet. I couldn't handle the noise. She agreed and we sat down on the couch to watch an episode of Life.

The birds seemed to sooth her (and me as well), but I thought it best to leave the house and get some distance from the fort. We spent the rest of the afternoon having a perfectly lovely time at our favorite busy park. Violet found some playmates and was cool as a cucumber, even when it was time to leave. Once we got home, whatever grievous imperfections there were about the fort had been forgotten. I haven't got the energy to try and figure out what started this whole mess. For the sake of my mental health, I believe we will be avoiding forts for a few days.

*I have no idea if Mr. Savage ever threw a chair in a match. I couldn't think of any other name.

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Dear Easter Bunny

*Transcribed last night, by Daddy.

Dear Easter Bunny,

I would like to have some jewelry in my Easter basket please. How about some gold pennies. How about a jewelry pony or a pony with some jewelry. Lots of jewelry or a necklace with a picture of a cat. I have a cat named Mittens, I love her. If you have a lot of dollars how about a bracelet. Do you have a lot of toys, do you like little girls? I watched a funny video with a bunny, but its not a real bunny it just eats them. Of course I would like some candy in my basket. I like suckers, and we have none in the house. I'm a pretty little girl named Violet. I like to play dress up. I like you. You are a pretty bunny, and I am your friend. You know; I would like a big huge rainbow diamond on a necklace. I would wash it and take care of it. You have to take care of Jewelry. You should not keep it in a dirty place like the basement with Bob the Dragon. Can you get me some jello jigglers, I ate some and they were good. Just a little bit of chocolate. Chocolate says "I love you". What do you do every week? Play games, video games, Candyland? Do you like Legos? Can you also bring something for my Mom and Daddy? Mommy likes Reese's peanut butter eggs. Daddy likes Mommy. I like movies, sometimes Daddy doesn’t let me watch them. Did you jump on the couch when you were a little kid? My favorite toys are dress up and jewelry. Do you dress up and wear jewels? I think you’re a human that dresses up as a bunny. Do you have fur, like Mittens? She needs her claws out. Do you have claws? Be careful not to step on my toys if you come in my room. I like playing Candyland. I wish I could live in a candy castle. It would be fabulous. Do you know about fabulous? How about bringing something for Mittens, like a chew toy.

Love,
Violet

Happy Easter!

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Fun FAIL

The weather in Ohio can be fickle. We are momentarily taking a break from Spring for a weekend preview of Summer. These "previews" are usually followed by a few days of dreary, miserable, cold conditions, so I insisted that we take advantage of the atmospheric situation and go outside. Yesterday, we made the epic hike to a playground that sits on the highest point in the city. It's not really that far from our house, but it is up hill both ways. Seriously.

Last summer, we only managed the walk a few times, because I got tired of dragging a whining child behind me. This time is was almost effortless. Violet's legs were fresh for the whole walk. She sprinted part of the way. I thought we might have turned a corner.

Just as we were leaving, a pack of little girls came pedaling up on their bikes, followed by a few exhausted adults who had actually carried the wheels up the four sets of hillside steps. Violet froze for a moment and I said we could bring her bike up here some other day. It was time to go.

Today, I got out Violet's bike and found her helmet and packed my backpack for a nice ride to the playground. We got off to a shaky start. Violet has always had trouble coordinating her movements for pedaling things. She is also easily distracted and prone to veering into the grass or the street. It was harder than I had hoped to get her all the way up the hill, but she seemed to brighten when I took over bike duty on the park steps.

When I set the bike back down on the path I noticed the tires felt a little spongy. Actually, they were flat. I had cajoled my child uphill for nearly a mile on flat tires. I said as much...and that was my biggest mistake. Violet refused to ride the now damaged bicycle. She repeated my own words about the soft tires, over and over again.

Worse than that, there were no kids. The pack of little bikers did not return for a second day. There was only a group of surly teenagers who seemed really bummed that I was there. Violet moped. Violet complained. Violet kept checking the horizon for a roving band of preschoolers to come play with her.

It was NOT fun.

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

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.

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Wardrobe Wednesday

I don't wear a lot of makeup. My skin is sensitive and oily and after a couple of hours I look worse than I would have if I went naked faced. I like mascara and lip gloss and I will powder my nose if I want to look real fancy. Besides, I don't go anywhere, so why bother?

My dear friend M is an executive with a big company and wears makeup everyday. This daily application of paint, has not gone unnoticed by her children. On a recent outing together, the battle cry of K-girl and Z-man was MAKEUP (yes, the boy wants some too). Mama was supposed to make a stop at Ulta and they were thrilled at the prospect of acquiring something new for themselves. Violet began chiming in as well, because MAKEUP must be awesome if you are going to yell about it in all caps, right? Well, the day did not go quite according to plan and we had to improvise with a quick stop at Sally Beauty to appease the tiny, raging beauty queens. I stayed in the van with the kids, because the boy had passed out and needed to stay that way. Oh, and Sally Beauty is but a tiny little shop and these girls would have ransacked that place in their bloodthirsty quest for MAKEUP. When M got back with matching bargain bin eyeshadow palates for the girls, the colors immediately reminded me of a black-eye. I told the girls we could give each other black eyes at our next playdate.

Violet still doesn't really know what MAKEUP is all about, and I'd like to keep it that way for awhile. I am also keeping her in the dark about chewing gum and sneakers that light up, so you know...

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Blanky and Cranky

*I am going to whine. Right here, right now. Look away if this offends you.

I am done. I don't know what to do about it or how to resolve my done-ness, but done I am. Done! Done, I tell you!

It did not snow that much in 2009, or 2008. It probably didn't snow a whole lot in 2007 either. I don't remember, because any snow we had disappeared pretty quickly. There were long breaks between snow storms. It was not SNOMAGEDON. Violet played outside in the snow for less than 10 minutes in 2007. She did not like it. In 2008, she "helped" shovel a bit and watched a snow plow nearly bury her and her father on the sidewalk. Last winter, I brought snow into the house and let her play with it in the sink after she was too cold to play outside. My point is, snow gear has never been necessary. Our brief forays into the yard or the journey from front door to car, were not enough to justify the purchase of snow boots and snow pants. Also, you have to buy the snow boots and pants in October, because that's when the asshole retailers put them out. So, it's a pricey gamble. Will it snow this winter? What size will the child expand to by the time snow starts piling up?

Violet has no snow boots, no snow pants and a "fashion" winter coat (the same goes for her parents, BTW). No one in our circle of friends has any outgrown snow gear to pass down. There are NO boots, or pants to be found in stores. We are utterly unprepared for an extended winter wonderland.

The members of the Heathen Family are prisoners in their own home.


She's wearing four pairs of pants & they were all soaked through.

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Half Time Entertainment

I suffer from a chronic indifference to football. I willingly watch one game a year and that game is the Super Bowl. I make snacks and drinks and get up to pee in between commercials. Ever since the whole Janet Jackson nipple slip, I try to watch the half-time show, just in case. It's really just about keeping pace with our vapid pop culture.

The Who's performance on Sunday was underwhelming. There were no wardrobe malfunctions or surprise performances from Britney Spears. It sounded like the opening credits of CSI Miami played in a loop for the duration of the show. Violet was far more entertaining.

I don't know why she's only wearing tights.

Seriously, it's not worth trying to figure out. Sometimes art cannot be explained with words.

*Actually, the outcome of the Super Bowl was moving, even to my cold, indifferent heart. A grown man crying with a baby in his arms under a torrent of confetti gets me every time. My husband decided that if the Saints won the game, we would go to New Orleans for our big anniversary trip. I rooted for them inspite of myself.

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Saturday, February 6, 2010

On a Snowy Saturday

Upon opening my back door at 7 AM I was greeted with this:

Two hours later, we indulged in a family sing-along with Bohemian Rhapsody:

One cat watched helplessly, while the other was manhandled:

There was some much begged for doll play:

The ladies of the house watched while Daddy shoveled the snow outside. There was some verbal taunting and a little snow was thrown in the general direction of the big window:

How's sno-magedon treating you?

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Remembering to be Curious

When was the last time you re-examined an ordinary object? There are so many things that just get cast aside and forgotten. Sadly, they go unexplored, like junk mail that gets thrown away without ever being opened.

Take for example the humble little silica gel pack that comes with every purse or tote bag you buy. Have you ever opened one? If not, why? Is it because the tiny package screams THROW AWAY DO NOT EAT?

Violet came downstairs yesterday with a tiny cup of liquid and asked us to help her "solve the mystery". I smelled it and guessed correctly that it contained soap from our bathroom sink. It also had a gritty substance in the bottom. Violet stirred it with one of the 10,000 striped drinking straws that she keeps stashed about the house and asked us (again) to solve the mystery. Aaron and I looked closer and saw tiny, clear beads amid the grit and soap bubbles.

"Where did these come from Violet?" A tiny bit of panic was hidden in my voice. I imagined gutted beanie babies and snipped costume jewelry.

"It came from the craft room. I opened a little package." Violet was not the least bit concerned, only curious.

I went up to the craft room and found an opened silica gel pack on Vi's desk. She had very neatly cut it with her safety scissors.

After we interrogated our child to make sure she had, in fact, not ingested any silica; we fished some beads out of the cup for a better look.

Mystery solved.

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

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.

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Monday, December 7, 2009

Dear Santa...

We've been trying to convince Violet that handwritten requests to Santa are more likely to be granted than those submitted via Mommy or e-mail. Mumbling in a terrified voice to the mall Santa doesn't count for much either. Violet has claimed a number of imaginary deficiencies to get out of this task, but today she felt "well enough" to give it a shot. She needn't have worried about it. If she had composed a sonnet to the cat, I don't think I could have been more excited.

I give you Violet's first written-all-by-herself letter to Santa Claus.

She's asking for Musketeer Barbie, but we cut her some slack on the specifics. The big man knows what's up. We have submitted a request to the North Pole to have Violet's letter picked up using the "magic envelope" service. Hopefully, when she wakes up in the morning there will be a receipt in the envelope to confirm Santa received her request.

What? You don't expect us to trust the post office do you?

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Right Now

So, Violet comes downstairs with her kitten ears on and says (rather excitedly), "I'm going to make myself a kitty!"

I probably mumbled something like, "Uh huh, great sweetie", without really looking at her.

When she returned to me this is what I saw.

"What did you use to do that?"

"I used a crayon!"

"Um, what kind of crayon?"

"This!"

That would be an orange MAGIC MARKER, not a crayon. Luckily, it was not a sharpie.

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Monday, November 16, 2009

Fairy Cannibalism

Aaron and I have (for better or worse) chosen very distinct and somewhat cliche parental roles for ourselves. I am in the trenches everyday, wiping the snot and maintaining just enough order to keep the house from combusting. He allows himself to be manhandled, nay physically abused, by our sweet cherub every single day. He also encourages her to torment me with a game only they find funny, called SMELL MY BUM. I am the voice of reason, Aaron is the voice of the absurd. It works out just fine for us most of the time. In fact, when a firmer hand is needed, Mean Daddy is such a shock that Violet straightens up immediately.

Four year olds are notorious for their completely nonsensical dietary quirks. Foods are routinely rejected and Violet reserves the right to stop eating a normally accepted food without cause. My efforts to strong arm her into eating have failed spectacularly. So, I started using deception. For some time I have been sneaking a very thin slice of turkey into Violet's grilled cheese sandwiches. Aaron took issue with this at first and warned me that she would figure it out eventually.

Violet did find out, largely due to Aaron's sloppy execution of the aforementioned hot sandwich. He knew the jig was up and said the first ridiculous thing that came to his mind. He told Violet that the turkey was in fact ground up fairies, the eating of which gave one special, magical powers. I left the room, not wanting to hear the shriek of injustice, or worse, the sound of regurgitation. What happened instead was typical of the funny father/daughter relationship that Violet and Aaron share. She was intrigued, even delighted that she was being given such enchanted food. I am still a little uneasy about the idea of my little girl who enjoys pretending to be a fairy, turning around and committing acts of fairy cannibalism, but it's working. I guess I should expect nothing less from a child who has proclaimed Halloween to be her favorite holiday and whose favorite show is a Discovery Channel cartoon called Growing Up Creepie.

Perhaps it's time to get her a copy of Lady Cottington's Pressed Fairy Book. Clearly, her sense of humor is more sophisticated than I thought.

Widget by Css Reflex | TutZone

Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)

sell my photosFotomoto