Adventures in Home Decor Shopping

This is a tale about a little sensory-overload experience that most people refer to as "shopping".  At my house, we lovingly refer to it as "gambling with disaster".  Shopping at the grocery is bad enough, with all the food samples, and the pretty packages filled with all sorts of enticing yummies for which the kids beg.  Shopping at a home decor store-- now there is a much messier, and totally uncontrollable can of worms to deal with.  Whew-- my PTSD is starting to flare up just thinking about it!

Home decor shopping.  *wince*  Normally, I look for reasons not to go shopping, but sometimes it's just unavoidable-- a means to an end, if you will.  When we recently removed the aquarium from our living room, I got it into my head that it was the perfect time to redecorate our living room walls-- thus, the need for shopping.  Sounds great, right?!  Who doesn't look forward to prettying-up the house a little?!  Shopping with a purpose-- that I can handle.  So, with visions of what my new living room decor might look like, and excitement at the prospect of freshening up the place, I loaded the girlies into the car and we headed to Home Goods.

To Infinity and Beyond!

How do we manage to have such dorky conversations at the dinner table?!

Tonight, we were talking about how Brussel sprouts, cabbage and broccoli are all cruciferous vegetables (don't laugh yet-- it gets dorkier), even though they seem so different.  What makes them cruciferous, Princess wondered.  I explained that they are all related because the flowers on the plants have four petals that resemble a cross, thus "cruciferous", which is Latin for cross-like.  Princess didn't like this explanation.  "A flower shouldn't make them RELATED.  Broccoli rocks, but cabbage and Brussel sprouts suck!  I mean it!  That's just dumb."

He does look dumb...

"You want to talk about dumb", said Birdie, "then let's discuss Buzz Lightyear for a minute.  (So she was the one that left the Toy Story DVD lying in the floor earlier... hmmm.)  That idiot likes to use the phrase 'to infinity and beyond!'  Like there is anything beyond infinity!  It's infinity because we don't know where it ends!  Duh."


(I warned you it would get dorkier.  Doesn't everyone talk about cruciferous vegetables and infinity with their little ones?  I say make each moment a dorky teachable moment.)


This was not the first time the subject of infinity has come up at the dinner table.  About three weeks ago, the whole family had discussed the idea of infinity to some extent over dinner.  The whole conversation made my brain hurt, and I was glad when it was over.  I should have known it wasn't over for good.  Things have a way of getting repeated again and again around here.  I'd say it's like deja vu, but it isn't as baffling as that.  My kids just cannot let things go.  Ever.  Even when you think they finally have.  It takes very little to revive a long-forgotten topic-- like seeing the Toy Story DVD, for example.  That was all it took to set my expert conversational-track-jumper into action, making the leap from cabbage to infinity in a single bound.  

Car Shopping 101

Image borrowed from Ai-Dealer.com

A car dealership is no place for children... which is exactly why Hubby and I took our angels with us car shopping yesterday.

If you have ever been on a car lot, then you know that one of a salesperson's best tactics is to make nice with your kids (if you are crazy enough to bring your kids).  You see said salesperson kissing up to being sweet with your kiddies and you are supposed to instantly trust him.  My kids seem to throw a wrench into this plan.  When they were smaller, their constant crying warded off the sales team.  These days, their crazy clothes, unkempt hair, the stuffies both girls bring that they are obviously conversing with, and Princess's willful avoidance of eye contact when spoken to by strangers (aka car salesmen), all add up to a very hassle-free car shopping experience for Hubby and me.  It probably also helped that, prior to our little visit, we let the girls play with water guns for two hours (making them very tired), loaded them up with chocolate chip cookies, and then told them we would only be staying a "few minutes" at the dealership before we went toy shopping.  I don't know for certain if this had an effect, but call it a hunch.

A Milestone in the Making

This is how Birdie's feet fit on the scooter--
 in Kindergarten!  Imagine how they look now!

This afternoon we had a major breakthrough in the land of the Crazy Train.  After Birdie concluded her performance of the first annual K Lane Big Top Circus (which I can't even describe in words, so don't ask), she and the rest of the neighborhood kids began to play in the front common yard.  Eventually the playing turned to riding, and all the kids went to retrieve their "wheels".  A couple of kids came out with their Razor scooters, several more brought their bikes (sans training wheels), and Birdie dragged out her 3-wheeled Dora the Explorer scooter.  She's had this thing since she was four-- and it shows!

Can You Hear Me Now?

It is the bane of every mother's existence-- the question repeated a million times a day:  Did you hear me?  Sometimes it sounds more like "what did I just say to you?!" or "do I need to repeat myself?!"  No matter how you ask this question, it all boils down to the same idea-- IS ANYONE LISTENING TO ME IN THIS GODFORSAKEN PLACE!!!!!

If you have to ask, the answer is probably NO.

I not list-en-ing to yooooou!

My Imaginary Friend Sleep

Not my photo of my imaginary friends

When I was a young girl, about the same age my daughters are now, I had two imaginary friends:  Starsky and Hutch.  I doubt they were very similar to their namesakes from the tv show in anyway-- all I knew about the tv characters I learned in 30sec commercial snippets played during the Muppet Show.  My Starsky and Hutch were 3 inches tall and could fit in my pocket.  They didn't carry guns because my dad wouldn't allow guns in the house.  They never went into the bathroom with me because that would have just been gross.  We had tea parties and played school together.  I would dig them tunnels in my sand box.  They would swim in the puddles that formed in my driveway after a big rain, and I would splash around the edge and act as their lifeguard if need be.  They were always easy to find when I needed company.  We played together for months-- so happy together.  Then one day they disappeared and I never saw them again.  I never figured out what happened to them.  Did they abandon me?  Did they meet a tragic end?  I thought the point of imaginary friends was that you could count on them...