Dear Home Buyer

Dear Prospective Home Buyer,

Yea! You’re home shopping. Good for you. So fun. Just wanted to point out one thing to you; you know that cute house you just called and asked if you could have a last minute showing? Yeah, there’s a family that lives in that house. I know! Who knew. Well, that family is busy. Like crazy busy. And when they have to show their house, they have to spend an extra hour or so stashing kid stuff and vacuuming dog hair and making it look like they don’t live there despite the fact they do and pretty much losing their minds to make sure the house looks amazingly unlived in.

So, when you schedule that last minute showing the one thing should never, ever do? Is not show up to said house showing. And you should definitely not not call when you know you’re not going to show up. And then when the realtor calls you and says WTF, you should absolutely not not apologize and then reschedule for the weekend. Because when you schedule a last minute showing and then you don’t show and you don’t call you risk pushing the mother of the previously mentioned family over the edge. And when she gets pushed over the edge, she’s going to hunt you down and give you lice. And make you step on Legos. And while those things don’t sound awful, they are. They’re annoyingly awful. Much like cleaning and stashing and straightening and then fleeing a house for NO ONE TO SHOW UP.

Anyway, best of luck on a new house! Keep your eyes peeled for Legos!

Beth

Stinky and Winky

A conversation with Baylor in the backseat of the car:

“MOMMY!! Don’t blow [roll] my window up!!”

“Babe, it’s hot. Could you please roll it up?”

“I didn’t blow it down, my toe did. So if you want it blowed up, you’ll have to ask my foot.”

“Ooookkk. Baylor’s foot? Could you please roll…”

“STINKY! His name is Stinky!”

“Stinky, could you please roll the window up?”

“Mommeeeee. He’s a foot. He doesn’t have ears! He can’t hear you ask him to blow up the window!! But I can do it if you ask me nice.”

Que the sound of the wine bottle opening….

Also? Winky? Is her other foot. I asked her why her feet were boys and she just rolled her eyes at me. We’re in trouble.

Sleepless in Scottsdale

As if spring wasn’t already a busy time, we’ve just added a new, huge thing to do our to do list (no, it’s not a baby). More to come…it’s all good news, it’s just now our list seems to be never ending.

Because of this long list, my mind is constantly churning. Especially when it should be sleeping. I add to my list, get worried about worst case scenarios and I can’t turn it off. I took a Benadryl the other night to combat not only the pollen in the air, but to knock myself out. It did the trick, but it gave me crazy dreams. Like whoa, dreams. My subconscious conjured up one of my most hated dreams; the return to school. I dream that I’m back in school, usually high school, but as an adult. However, this time I dreamed I was back in grade school and I couldn’t test out of 4th grade because I suck at long division. I woke up when I was yelling at the teacher “I don’t need to be here! I already did all of this!!”. It’s not a fun feeling.

Years ago I came across a website called Petrix. It basically deciphers the images in your dreams. The animals, the colors, body parts, dates, objects, etc. It give very simple explanations for the items that always give meaning beyond the sometimes scary surface.

Peter said it all has a little too positive spin…but I think that’s the part that makes it better. It give some meaning to the crazy nightmares and helps me get back to sleep. Fluff or not, it works.

See for yourself:

www.Petrix.com/dreams

All the Feels

While eating her dinner, watching me make lunches for the next day, Baylor asked

“could you please cut my cheese into a heart shape?”.

WTF? My first response was an incredulous “whose MOTHER is cutting their cheese into heart shapes in your class??”.  Because clearly someone is making all the other moms look bad. It’s not enough that I A. remembered to pack a lunch B. it was something you liked and C. it was reasonably healthy…now I have to cut shit into hearts too?? Gah! I can’t keep up. Why is just making a nice meal not enough? Why does it have to have fireworks and hearts too?

When I found out who the culprit was, I was knocked back down a bit. I actually really like this mom. So if she was taking the time to cut hearts, I could too. And it turns out, I’m pretty good at free handing hearts in dairy substances with a butter knife.

The next day when I picked up Auggie from class, the first thing his teachers said was “he loved that cheese heart so much!”. All smiles, he ran up for a hug. It was a good reminder – the little things count. They get noticed and they are important. Yes, healthy delicious meals are important too, but that little extra thing makes a big difference.

I got all inspired and found a three pack of cutters that were made for sandwich. Dolphins, dinosaurs and of course, hearts. I surprised the kids with dinosaur shaped grilled cheese that night for dinner. Baylor was thrilled. Auggie, not so much. It turns out he’s not such a big fan of eating dinosaur heads. Or dolphin tails for that matter. So back we go to free handed heart shaped cheese. And peanut butter cups. Nothing says love like a peanut butter cup.

Ladybug Ladybug, Welcome Home

This growing season has been a tough one for my lettuce table. Normally by Christmas we are out cutting fresh leaves for salad every day. This year the hot – cold – hot temperatures in the fall made for some rough growing. I finally got the right combination of morning sun, umbrella shade in the afternoon and a weekly hit of a 20-20-20 fertilizer and boom! Lettuce for days. Weeks. Months!

As I was cutting the first good crop, I noticed black bugs on the leaves. Like a lot of black bugs. aphids to be exact. It dawned on me later that we’ve always had a praying mantis in the garden. He (she?) reappeared sometime in the fall and apparently she (he?) was working to keep the aphid population in check. But this year he/she didn’t come back so when the mantis is away, the aphids will play.

And play those little bastards did.

I want the lettuce table to be organic so I didn’t want to spray any pesticides.  I used an insecticidal soap which is safe for humans, but allegedly the aphids don’t like it and they should leave when you spray it. I swear to God, those little assholes laughed when I sprayed it on the leaves. I saw one pretending to take a shower with the soap while he laughed with his friends. All the while eating my plants.

When I gave my mom a big bag of lettuce, I told her to make sure to wash it well to get the bugs off. “Don’t worry.” she said. ” I just serve the salad with poppy seed dressing so in case I missed any bugs, you can’t tell.”

It’s amazing I came out as normal as I did.

Anyway. I decided I couldn’t take it any more and after several phone calls to local nurseries and Google searches, I found a retailer that would ship me some ladybugs asap. Ladybugs are natural predators of aphids and they won’t hurt my lettuce. Not to mention they are adorable. Yesterday when the little ventilated box arrived, it was like Christmas. No one should get this excited about a box of bugs…and yet there I was, sprinkling ladybugs onto the leaves of the lettuce saying go! eat, my pretties! eat them all!!! while laughing manaicly.

The kids were entranced by the hard work the ladybugs were doing – within an hour of being on the leaves, they were eating to their hearts content. Gone were the sounds of those little jerks laughing. Now all we could hear was the nom nom nom sounds of the ladybug lunch.

Muuuahhhaaahhhhaahhaa!!!

So delicious. Until you notice the bugs…

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Workin’ hard!

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Parental Punt

Some days, there just isn’t enough time for it all.

Normally, I can schedule my work time around the kid’s school hours and or nap time. In a perfect world, I pack it all in and I’m able to leave my desk and desk top sorted and to do list checked off ad the first sound of a waking child.

For the last 6 weeks, that has not been the case. In addition to a larger than usual work load, there are about 9 other plates spinning above my head perched precariously on little sticks. I look like a circus side show desperately trying to keep all the plates spinning in the air. And when one of the plates is not spinning fast enough – or at all – the mom guilt kicks in. Big time.

And thus, the parental punt.

Yes they eat. They get baths. Their clothes are clean-ish. But they watch more cartoons than they should. Laundry sits longer than I’d like it to. We eat out too much or worse, there are way too many meals of quesadillas without a veggie in sight. I drop them off at the first minute they can be on campus per our tuition bracket and pick up at the last second. There is far too much wine consumed and too few hours slept.

But there is a light. I won’t always be the kicker. Soon there will be enough time, energy and daylight to run the ball in. At least, that’s what I tell myself to dissuade the mom guilt.  That and a few carrots on their plates should do the trick.

Oh The Irony

At the beginning of the school year, I cleaned out a bag full of books from the kid’s collection. Some duplicates, a few that we had out grown, some that we didn’t like, etc. I donated a bag of them to Auggie’s class. They love books and the board books are perfect for little hands to explore.

When I picked up Auggie from school after lunch one day, he was sitting on the little couch, totally engrossed in a book. I realized it was Goodnight, Gorilla  or as he calls it “Night Night Monkey”. His teacher told me that it’s his favorite and he gets it every day to look at.

As I pried it from his squishy little hands, I reassured him that we had the very same book at home. We never read it because you can’t read it. It’s essentially a picture book, there’s like 4 words in the whole thing. And because by the end of the day, my ability to cleverly narrate a picture book is lacking so we stick with the books that provide the story for me.

I scoured the shelves at home looking for Night Night Monkey while Augs recited the book, page by page from memory (“den monkey takes keys! den he let out gerrraffe!”). Slowly it dawned on me…the freaking book he was in love with at school was the one had given away to his class.

Augs then got to learn what it meant to same day deliver from Amazon Prime. Because when a kid loves a book, you buy it. Even if it’s the second time.

Goodnight Gorilla. Thank you for providing sweet, albeit ironic memories for us.

Mexican Mule

Peter fell in love with the cocktail called a Moscow Mule. To me, they just weren’t that amazing. I’m not a vodka drinker and something about the flavors just didn’t work for me.

BUT. I recently saw a version called a Mexican Mule made with tequila and a bit of simple syrup. I convinced PW to try it with me and verdict was that it was a hit. Light, refreshing and very delicious. It will be a regular come summer I’m sure.

1.5 Shot of Tequila

3/4 Shot fresh lime juice

1/4 Shot Simple Syrup (easy peasy to make – 2 parts sugar to 1 part hot water. Stir until dissolved)

Top with Ginger Beer. We tried two different brands and we liked Bundaberg

Now for serving it…we have one copper mug (for the Moscow version) so we used it and a regular glass. And as stupid as it sounds, the mug totally made a difference. It got colder and just tasted better! Any metal cup may work, but the copper is just so pretty. Amazon has them for good prices.

Serve with a lime wheel and enjoy!