Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Our iTunes Playlist of Shame

Last week we celebrated our 9th wedding anniversary.

It started out like any other morning. I got out of bed first and headed straight for the bathroom to pee. Suddenly J is behind me, giving me a big sqeeze. "HAPPY ANNIVERSARY HONEY!"

Dude, I gots to pee.


"You forgot?" Big smirk.

No, I just haven't had coffee yet. And I really need to pee.

Ten minutes later...the coffee pot has mysteriously stopped working and it refuses to make coffee even though it worked perfectly yesterday. Are you friggin kidding me? I finally give up when I realize that it's going to start a fire. (There was actual melting.)

That night he came home with a card with penguins on it. Penguins are very hip in my book.

"I'd already bought it, I just forgot to write in it so I had to take it to work!"

"Okay, okay, you get points."

"Let's go to dinner!"

Ugh, I am far too lazy to drive into town. But he's so excited.

"Crap, I never got around to taking a shower today."

"You forgot! Hahaha!"

"Yeah, I forgot."

In case you haven't already figured me out I often do really stupid things and I always feel the need to share them.

The previous night my eczema was acting up. I was trying to fall asleep and exhausted enough but my skin was screaming for moisture. I had left my creams on the other side of the house, J was out of shouting range, and I really didn't want to get up. So instead of taking a 20 second walk to the other side of our not-very-big house I opted to instead just take a 2 second walk to the bathroom.

I opened the vanity. No lotion but I did see Aloe Vera Gel. (We keep it around because J gets sunburned easily.) So I grabbed it, took it back to bed, and then lathered myself up.


Wait? What's with the sticky?

Oops. Aloe Vera HAIR Gel.

When the hell did we buy that?

Since there is no time for a shower I decide to at least try to look nice. I grab a pair of high heeled boots and find a pair of skinny jeans that I know are too long for my normal frumpy shoes. Not my "skinny" jeans, but a pair of jeans that didn't fit a few months back but now probably do since I've recently lost weight.

And being tall in skinny jeans will make me feel sexy even if I'm still covered in hair gel and have been doing dirty work in the yard all day, right?

Shit. They are circa 2003 and go up to my belly button back from my just-had-a-baby days when up to your belly button jeans did seem like a good idea because they sucked in the loose belly skin. Not sexy. And the color blue is just kinda weird. Why did I ever buy these? Whatever. They do fit and everything else is dirty anyway. I just won't lift my arms and try to keep me belly jeans a secret.

Lip gloss! Maybe I can wear lip gloss! I start digging around under the sink.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for makeup."

"You OWN makeup?"

"Uh, yeah!"

"When did you buy makeup?"

"Well, it was when Garden Botanica was still around. Like 96 or 97? Maybe even 98. Found it!"

What the hell was I thinking in 96, 97 or 98? Even tan I am still pale, and I the only lip gloss I own is light brown? Taupe even?

Once we got home and the Cracker was in bed I finally relaxed enough to get a little in the mood.

At my suggestion we opened up iTunes to listen to our song. Yes, we have a song. And suddenly I just had to grab him and as our Itunes list of shame played on we slowed danced and even did quite a bit of necking.

TMI, right?

So what is OUR song?

Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover (Track #1 if you care to take a little listen.)
Pretty sure it's been on every worst song countdown VH-1 has ever done. But that's why it stuck. We go around around singing it because it's makes us crack up and snot drinks out our noses.

Here's a little sample:
This bloke can't stand to see you black and blue
I give you something sweet each time you
Come inside my jungle book
It's just too good
Don't say you'll stay
'Cause then you go away

Damn! I wish I was your lover
I'll rock you till the daylight comes
Make sure you are smiling and warm
I am everything
Tonight I'll be your mother
I'll do such things to ease your pain
Free your mind and you won't feel ashamed
For me there is no other
You're the only shoe that fits
I can't imagine I'll grow out of it

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Overheard: A True Story

J just in from work, Cracker happily playing in the adjoining room.

"So we really need to watch what we're saying around The Parrot. Today he came up with some totally new swear word. Well it wasn't a swear word...what was it? (Trying to remember, trying to remember...) It wasn't horrible, something like "Oh Lordy me!" but I know it wasn't anything that either one of us say. Still it just seems like he's repeating everything these days." Racking my brain. "What was it? Oh it's going to drive me crazy. What was it?"

I'm still saying "What was it? What was it?" when the Cracker wanders in.




Lovely! My thoughts exactly.

So I'm hoping here that he couldn't read our faces. J and I fell silent and locked gazes as we totally ignored him, but I could see it in J's eyes, and he in mine: pupils all dilated, our looks toward each other screamed "OMG DID HE REALLY JUST SAY THAT? FUCK!!!"

We're still reeling when he takes a toy in his hand and whacks himself in the face. "Fuck!"



"Bonk. Maybe he said bonk."

"He didn't."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm going to pretend that he did."

Crackers laughs maniacally. "BONK! BONK!" Wanders back to his toys hitting himself in the head repeating "BONK" and laughing each time.


I know he understands more than I understand he understands but seriously? Swear word? He knows the meaning of swear word? Our response is always that's not a nice word. Is it Barney's fault? Does Barney call them swear words?

It's times like these where I really wish J had paid attention in Spanish class. At least then if the Cracker still picked up our conversations we could say he's bilingual.

I am in deep doo doo.

"I can't. Sorry!"

Tonight I had some "me" time. I hid in the bedroom and watched an entire hour of TV without anyone barging in.

(Okay, once, but during commercial. And it only lasted 2 minutes, so mission accomplished.)

When I reemerge the Cracker tells me he wants a banana, that he had one, but that Daddy took it away.


"Hey, he says you have his banana?"
"Oh yeah, guess I forgot to give it back after his time out."
"He had a time out? What'd he do?"
"Well, you had to be there."
"Uh huh."
"He wouldn't stop washing his hands."
"You really had to be there." Sighs. "So he's in the bathroom for like 10 minutes yelling out me wash my hands...with soap now...with water wash my me wash my hands wash... After ten minutes I told him to stop and of course he told me I can't."
"Ugh! I hate that!"
(This has been going on for a few months now, but he's recently decided that saying "sorry!" after "I can't" makes it okay to say no to everything we ask/suggest/downright tell him.)

"After I realized he'd gone through an entire thing of liquid soap I put my foot down, but he started in with the kicking and screaming routine. And he pretty much flooded the bathroom."
"But, on the plus side, he's been in a really good listening mood ever since."

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Manners Schmanners

"What did you do at school today?"

"Me play."

"What did you play?"

"Me play inside."

"What did you play inside?"

"Paint. And me peel apples!"

"That sounds fun! What else?"

"Me play owside."

"What did you play outside?"

"Gucks." (That would be trucks.)

"What else?"

"Me eat snack."

"Oh? What did they have for snack today?"

Totally disgusted. "Juice! Puple juice!"

"Did you drink it?" (Like I don't already know the answer.)


"Did you remember to say no thank you?"

"No. Me said (to) dat Mommy juice is eew! Juice is icky! Me no drink dat!"

"Is that what the Polite Elephant would have said?"



"Is otay. My teacher give me waber isstead."

We used to get compliments all the time from complete strangers on our child's manners. Time to break out the Emily Post again.

I Stand Corrected

AGAIN. It happens a lot lately.

"Santa no haf waindeer. He haf snowdeer. It is so cold! (Shivers even though the temp has gone up 20 degrees in the last 3 hours and he is now overdressed.) It no wains, it snows!"

Monday, September 18, 2006

It Really Does Take a Village

Before you have kids you have all these plans, all the things you're going to tell them and teach them about the world.

J, since we're not very religious: "I'm going to teach our kids to say gesundheit instead of bless you."
Me: "Great idea honey! (I love foreign languages.) I'm going to read and sing to our kids in Spanish and Italian all the time! And maybe French too, though my pronunciation sucks, but I'll get better! I'll take a refresher course!"

And then you have kids. And somewhere between smelling all wets spots "Is that pee? Why yes it is" and kissing invisible boo-boos and cursing yourself for once again for neglecting to put Elmo Band-Aids on the shopping list, well, you forget a few of them along the way.

That's where just being out in the world becomes handy.

A few months back a car full of teenagers taught the Cracker that if you bend your arm at the elbow, make a fist pointed towards the sky and pump it that some truckers will honk for you.

We live and breath could I have forgotten this one?

At school on Tuesday they husked corn. Very cool! (And then it was the only part of snack, Cracker's favorite part of school, that he wouldn't eat. No veggie boy has always been skeptical of corn. He eats pretty much every other yellow food including peppers. Eating corn no longer tops my list of concerns.)

So yesterday morning I'm loading the dishwasher and the Cracker is chatting away a mile a minute and I'm not even kind of listening. I finish up and realize that he cannot stop laughing. Instead of interrupting I pretend to keep on working and do a little eavesdropping.

"Knock knock. Whose dere? A snik! (snake) Who? A SNIK FALL DOWN! BAWHAHAHAHA!"

So it's the worst knock-knock joke ever, but it's totally my favorite.

(In case you can't feel it, my heart is melting. I stupidly thought that knock-knock jokes weren't funny until at least 4. I still have so much to learn.)

The Cracker's other favorites which he thinks are almost as funny:

"Knock knock. Whose dere? MEEE!!!"
"Knock knock. Whose dere? Apple! Who? Dis apple need a bath!"

(The last one I know is an original...he made it up while I was slicing apples.)

This school thing is going to be really good for us.

(Anyone out there have a good knock-knock joke for me?)

We are nothing if not polite

Scene at Target yesterday

Target dude hands me my bags, I say: "Thank you!"
Target dude turns to next customer.


Target dude turns red: "You're welcome, Ma'am."

God I hate being called Ma'am.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Pumpkin Love

(Wait for it, wait for with pumpkins mentioned.)

Pumpkin update = not so good.

First off we had a bad ass hail storm last week that did some major damage to both p-kins and vine. The two biggest p-kins weathered it pretty well, but a bunch of babies lost chunks.

Stupid hail.

A few days later I discovered the tiniest, nastiest looking little white worms entering my pumpkins through the little hail holes. Eew! Yuck! Eew!

Stupid worms.

On the plus side, the hail damaged ones are still growing. And I have a bunch of new baby p-kins, the vine is still getting longer and I'm getting even more new flowers. And tonight I finally dragged myself to Lowes where two nice people helped me find the best pesticide for the worms. Tomorrow I will spray.

The two biggest happiest p-kins appear to have stopped growing bigger once they hit cantaloupe size. I'm was really hoping for some biggies, but what can I ask from a vine that planted itself and is growing on last year's Christmas tree? At this point if I end up with anything I'll be happy. This was all too good to be true.

Now for the sex:

Last week a very sad me, counting my pumpkins before they'd erupted, whined to my dad about how large numbers of flowers had started drying up and falling off, producing no fruit.

"Oh, they most not have gotten pollinated."

Stupid bees!

"Ugh! It's because they love the flowers in my front yard."

"Well that's okay! You can pollinate them yourself."

(Silence. Millions of visuals streaming before my eyes, none of which I am going to mention to my own father.)

"Like...uh...blow on them or something?"

"No, find something small and rub them gently."

Are we really having this discussion?

"Like a something-I-can't-remember now."

"Or a Q-tip?"

"Sure, that would work too. Just open them up and use the lightest touch."


So there I was, a few nights later, in my patch, in the dark (yeah...I don't know the back fence neighbors well enough yet, and none of them have window coverings) Q-tip in one hand, flashlight in the other, making pumpkin love.


No luck.

Finally I take my problems to the all knowing internet. Here's what I found: P-kin vines have both male and female flowers, and of course male flowers will not produce fruit, so it's not only not my fault but beyond my control.

Dude. Why didn't I know this? I took Bio,'s totally logical.

In fact male flowers only last a day. BUT I need to catch them right away so I can collect their pollen for my girls before the bees do. Suggestion? Stalk the bastards out the night before they open and tie baggies over them so the bees won't steal their goods by 5am. And while you don't need to fertilize your girls before sunrise, on the other hand this person does it between 7:30 and 9am.

I hate morning sex, any kind.

And if you think I'm making this shit up, here you go: first hit on Goggle search for pumpkin + flower + pollinate.



This is why I love where I live. The only thing that would make it better, of course, is if this was the view from inside my house and not my yard. But hey, I'm not complaining.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Monday, September 04, 2006

Done deal.

Friday night we headed to the evil mall to find J a new pair of shoes. For work. Believe you me, MUCH harder than it sounds.

Black. We were looking for black. For work.

Everything with laces is a "bowling" shoe.

He wants clogs. Backless ones. For work.

"Ummm...ummm...honey? Your coworkers are uber conservative. They already think you're a big fat hippy."

(The "funny" you made that very morning about making bongs in shop class?* We're lucky the cops haven't showed up at the house searching for drugs. Yet.)

"You want promotions. Let's not rub your perceived hippiness in their faces, k? Do you see anything you like with a back, maybe?"

Wannabe helpful sales guy not helping: "How about these!"

Black Dankso clogs.

Dude, go a-way.

After exhausting all the granola shoe stores AND the department stores we went to the athletic shoe stores. Maybe just a new pair of Nike's in gray? That's pretty much what we're replacing after all. He was just looking for something more professional this time around.

Dude, we had no idea how UNhip hop we were. Where have all the normal running shoes gone???

Finally ended up at REI. He'll be getting these. No one had them in town in black.

We did not however leave the mall empty handed. I just had to wander into Old Navy, and it was there that the Cracker found his Halloween costume all by his little self. AND THERE ARE SOUND EFFECTS.

We are going to be a monkey this year.

Not my first choice, but at least it isn't a cartoon superhero. (I know, I know, that's next year, isn't it? From Walmart, and it's going to fall apart the first time he tries it on. Sigh.) It's okay, but I kinda don't like the fluffy legs. Might have to get a pair of brown tights and fiddle with it. Monkeys don't have big loose skin on their legs.

All his costumes thus far have been ON. Because I am lazy. And I always find the good costumes too late.

So here's last year's, which they have again this year, of course.

See the stupid legs?

So here's what I did...I bought him tights. J made a stink about it, but it was all in good fun and he didn't really care.

Now those are some nice legs!

So what I had liked (and is actually available in his size):

Lil' Lederhosen

First problem, not warm enough for Halloween night. Because here, in October, it will be warm during the day (too warm for heavyish costumes) but cold at night.
Second problem, what do I tell him he is? His friends are running around as animals, rescue workers and superheroes, and he is...German???

(And you must understand that while my name is Heidi, I am not German. Neither J or I have any German ancestry that we are aware of. The Cracker's names are Scottish, Welsh, British and Irish, depending on who you ask.)

(That is why we don't tan. At least not easily.)

Also kinda cute and different: a pilgrim.

(Did I really just say that?)

And Robin Hood. He looks so good in brown and green, and it has tights already, and a darn cute little hat.

But we are a monkey. And we've been wearing it every day since it came home with us Friday night. He's in love. How can I say no to that?

*He didn't.


First Day of School.



I'll admit it...I'm bummed. Preschool, even at two days a week, marks the end of an era.


It's the beginning of an end, and if it weren't in his best interests, I wouldn't send him at all.

Yup, call me selfish. I couldn't care less. I'd rather have him with me.

I know I want more "me" time, but not like this.

(Crazy woman.)

No more waking up late, lazily eating breakfast, doing what ever the heck we feel like doing when ever the heck we feel like doing it.

God I hate schedules.

And what the heck will I do with myself? (Besides go to Starbucks.)

My baby is going to have an outside life, a life at school

That's really weird.

The biggest blow? In less than two short years it will be Kindergarten, full day Kindergarten. With uniforms (public school...we think it's weird and that it sux) and backpacks and lunchboxes. And eventually homework.


Where have the last 3 years and 5 months gone?

Pumpkin Update

This morning. Getting big enough now that you can see them through the vine.