So yes folks, I am on the Glee bandwagon. I watched the Fall sneak preview last Tuesday and I just can't stop watching, singing and laughing. ("you can't expect me to stand on my feet 3 hours a day 4 days a week and then go home and cook dinner for myself?!") Glee is part "Election", part "Waiting for Guffman" and all about the underdog. My kind of show!
Friday, May 22, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
A Conversation With Ben
We took Ben to the zoo today. At the jaguar/leopard exhibit he met two little friends. They were a darling brother/sister combo around the ages of 3 and almost 2, respectively. Let's check in on Ben's people skills, shall we?
Darling little girl, bothering no one: "Look, Ma Ma! It's a TIGUH!!!
Ben: "No it is not. Its a jag-WIRE!"
Darling big brother, bothering no one: "Oooh...and that one is blue, Mama! Look at the blue one!"
Ben: "He's black. He's not blue!" and then he turned to the little girl to finish, "And he's not a tiger. He's a JAG-WIRE!"
Darling little children all together now, "Mama, the tiguh says, ROAR! He's a big tiguh." and "That big one up there is BLUE!"
Ben: "I TOLD YOU those are jag-WIRES and that one is NOT blue. He's black!"
Ben's Daddy & Mommy: "c'mon, buddy. Leave them alone. Ben, don't correct them. Ben, use a nicer tone. BEN!"
As we walk away, Kevin kneels down next to Ben and says, "Ben, you need to speak nicely to everyone and don't correct everything people say. It is rude. Oh and Ben? You were wrong. One was a jaguar, but the other was a leopard." (Daddy, just HAD to get his dig in?!? Don't correct everyone my foot!)
Ben replied, "I AM NOT WRONG! That one is black, NOT blue and they ARE JAG-WIRES!"
I see him voted as class favorite for sure!
Darling little girl, bothering no one: "Look, Ma Ma! It's a TIGUH!!!
Ben: "No it is not. Its a jag-WIRE!"
Darling big brother, bothering no one: "Oooh...and that one is blue, Mama! Look at the blue one!"
Ben: "He's black. He's not blue!" and then he turned to the little girl to finish, "And he's not a tiger. He's a JAG-WIRE!"
Darling little children all together now, "Mama, the tiguh says, ROAR! He's a big tiguh." and "That big one up there is BLUE!"
Ben: "I TOLD YOU those are jag-WIRES and that one is NOT blue. He's black!"
Ben's Daddy & Mommy: "c'mon, buddy. Leave them alone. Ben, don't correct them. Ben, use a nicer tone. BEN!"
As we walk away, Kevin kneels down next to Ben and says, "Ben, you need to speak nicely to everyone and don't correct everything people say. It is rude. Oh and Ben? You were wrong. One was a jaguar, but the other was a leopard." (Daddy, just HAD to get his dig in?!? Don't correct everyone my foot!)
Ben replied, "I AM NOT WRONG! That one is black, NOT blue and they ARE JAG-WIRES!"
I see him voted as class favorite for sure!
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Happy Mother's Day!
I think "Mother's Day" is quite possibly one of the most ironic holidays on our calendar when you have a pre-schooler. (and probably pre-teen and teenager.) I mean, only when they are an infant or fully grown with their own families and lives do you really get to be celebrated. Truly celebrated. Kick your feet up; drink during the day; and just simply rejoice the glorious fact that, "I AM A MOTHER!"
You see when you have a pre-schooler, your magical day goes a little more like this.
Ben: I want chicken with skinny fries.
Me: (to the waiter) Can we get a kids chicken strips with skinny fries?
Ben: NO I SAID FAT FRIES!! I WANT FAT FRIES!!!
Me: Ben, if you don't settle down and start acting kindly, we will not eat lunch at the Country Club with Mammoo and Granddad and Grandy and Dandy. Do you want fat fries or skinny fries?
Ben: Fat fries, please.
Me: We'd like fat fries. Thank you.
Ben: *SOB SOB SOB* I said skinny fries. I don't like fat fries. You know I don't like fat fries.
Me: What did I just say about acting kindly. Stop it or we will have to go back to the bathroom. (Yes, we'd already been twice. Once for sprinting through the packed ACC and nearly knocking an old lady over after I had told him to walk slowly and stay by Mommy and once for spitting "raspberries" at maximum spit factor in line at the salad bar.)
So we spent the rest of our lunch jockeying for who could keep the little prince happy and charming throughout lunch and I am sorry to say that in our case, Hilary Clinton was right. It takes a whole damn village. And a waiter. And the table next to us.
But I digress. We got mad because the chicken came with fat fries. We got upset that the last cherry in our Shirley Temple didn't have a stem. We didn't want to sit by Daddy anymore, we wanted to sit by Grandy and why couldn't he sit by Grandy. (Even though by Grandy is where I had originally put his shiny hiney and we got all bent out of shape because he had to sit by Daddy.)
Now I ask you. Where in the hell is my holiday in all of this. Where? Where is my magical swelling moment of "what a glorious thing to be a mother" day!?!
I'll tell you where. It was at 9:00 a.m. when my long-haired angel in rumpled fire truck jammies that our now at least one size too small handed me a card he had drawn on and leaned over and patted me on the head and said, "Happy Mother's Day, Mamma! I love you!"
You see when you have a pre-schooler, your magical day goes a little more like this.
Ben: I want chicken with skinny fries.
Me: (to the waiter) Can we get a kids chicken strips with skinny fries?
Ben: NO I SAID FAT FRIES!! I WANT FAT FRIES!!!
Me: Ben, if you don't settle down and start acting kindly, we will not eat lunch at the Country Club with Mammoo and Granddad and Grandy and Dandy. Do you want fat fries or skinny fries?
Ben: Fat fries, please.
Me: We'd like fat fries. Thank you.
Ben: *SOB SOB SOB* I said skinny fries. I don't like fat fries. You know I don't like fat fries.
Me: What did I just say about acting kindly. Stop it or we will have to go back to the bathroom. (Yes, we'd already been twice. Once for sprinting through the packed ACC and nearly knocking an old lady over after I had told him to walk slowly and stay by Mommy and once for spitting "raspberries" at maximum spit factor in line at the salad bar.)
So we spent the rest of our lunch jockeying for who could keep the little prince happy and charming throughout lunch and I am sorry to say that in our case, Hilary Clinton was right. It takes a whole damn village. And a waiter. And the table next to us.
But I digress. We got mad because the chicken came with fat fries. We got upset that the last cherry in our Shirley Temple didn't have a stem. We didn't want to sit by Daddy anymore, we wanted to sit by Grandy and why couldn't he sit by Grandy. (Even though by Grandy is where I had originally put his shiny hiney and we got all bent out of shape because he had to sit by Daddy.)
Now I ask you. Where in the hell is my holiday in all of this. Where? Where is my magical swelling moment of "what a glorious thing to be a mother" day!?!
I'll tell you where. It was at 9:00 a.m. when my long-haired angel in rumpled fire truck jammies that our now at least one size too small handed me a card he had drawn on and leaned over and patted me on the head and said, "Happy Mother's Day, Mamma! I love you!"
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Serendipitous Summer
I have no house pictures to post as promised. I can't find my cord thingy that I hook my camera up to to download the photos. I am still working one single day at a time and the fact that I am back online today at all is a simple miracle.
What I can give you is a photo from my iPhone today and the first of my weekly installments through August. I shall call this section "Serendipitous Summer." Firstly, because I love alliterations and MB can testify to my seriously unnatural love of alliterations! How they roll trippingly from your tongue is one of life's little blissful perfections that I for one, can NOT get enough of! Secondly, I chose this title because of the "luck" factor in the definition. Serendipitous means "The faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident." I seriously feel that this could be one of the happiest summers thus far and I know it will only be such if I DON'T OVER do it. No OVER thinking. No OVER planning. I am just going to let it ride and let Ben be the guide.
So in getting ready for the best summer ever, I give you my photo titled, "If I were this inhibited, I could rule the world." Which was better than the original working title of, "Ben put some pants on. You are making Daddy nervous."
Enjoy.
Editor's Note: Yes, those are Christmas jammies. There is no shame in my game!
Friday, May 1, 2009
um...hello?
Is this thing on? Hello? Hello?!
So, yeah....that happened!
WOW folks. Do you love how I announce my new bright ideas for blogging and web socializing and then leave you high and dry for another month?! I have always been considerate like that. Well make no mistake when I tell you that March/April was quite possibly the most hectic, stressfull, emotionally draining and rewarding time in my life. It was the biggest roller coaster ride I have experienced and although my feet are back on the ground, I am still a bit woozie.
But I am back. For real. Not the fake "back" that I was a few weeks ago. We'll start tomorrow with the Tour de Bredemeyer Abode. Room by messy room. I love this house so much that I don't care that you know if I leave my dirty clothes on the floor or put them in the hamper. You've waited patiently and now I will share! After the house tour, I will lay out the new blogging format so that you folks following me on Twitter or randomly checking in will know more when new posts are coming!
Thank you friends!
See you tomorrow!
So, yeah....that happened!
WOW folks. Do you love how I announce my new bright ideas for blogging and web socializing and then leave you high and dry for another month?! I have always been considerate like that. Well make no mistake when I tell you that March/April was quite possibly the most hectic, stressfull, emotionally draining and rewarding time in my life. It was the biggest roller coaster ride I have experienced and although my feet are back on the ground, I am still a bit woozie.
But I am back. For real. Not the fake "back" that I was a few weeks ago. We'll start tomorrow with the Tour de Bredemeyer Abode. Room by messy room. I love this house so much that I don't care that you know if I leave my dirty clothes on the floor or put them in the hamper. You've waited patiently and now I will share! After the house tour, I will lay out the new blogging format so that you folks following me on Twitter or randomly checking in will know more when new posts are coming!
Thank you friends!
See you tomorrow!
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