Adult ADD

Sometimes I think I’m loosing my mind. Other times, I’m sure of it. But mostly I think I have too many things on my to do list and my brain can’t focus and or keep track of all the items. I am a big list maker, to the point of insanity, and yet all the lists (work and in general. House and kid. To do today and to do this week and to do this year. Grocery, mall, Lowes, Target. It’s a sickness) and a blinding number of hot pink post it notes are not enough. I get to a room and forget what I came for – or get distracted from the reason I went there in the first place and complete 6 other tasks before getting back to the original.  Here’s an example:

I put Baylie down for her nap and walk past her high chair on the way to the office. I remember that her high chair is scary dirty and in need of a bleach spray down and a hosing off outside. I head to the laundry room to get the spray and I’m immediately distracted by the mop soaking in bleach water (yes, I like bleach) and proceed to rinse it. Then I notice the washer is done so I flip the wash to the dryer and take what’s in the dryer out. I see it’s my reusable grocery bags and set out to return them to my car. On my way back from the garage, I notice my new strawberry plants are looking a little wilted so I stop and water them, the lettuce, roses, petunias and catch a few other plants as our sprinkler system is on the fritz and I have no idea if Angel the yard guy actually fixed it yet. I go back in side to text Angel to see what the verdict is and in the process, notice how dirty Baylor’s high chair is. So I head to the laundry room for some bleach spray….

And thus the vicious cycle continues until either the kid wakes up or I actually get to throw away a few post it notes. Blog? DONE!

Sock Gnomes

Apparently the way to beat a sock gnome is with patience. Much like a two-year old who won’t got to sleep, it turns out the little buggers will give in if you wait them out long enough.

What is a sock gnome? An SG is an invisible, tiny creature that steals socks. Not pairs of sock, but one sock at a time.

After folding copious amounts of laundry, I’m usually left with one or two socks without mates. I leave them in the bottom of the laundry basket as their buddy, who was probably stuck under the hamper, didn’t make into the hamper, was captive in Baylie’s bag or has been stuck in the arm of a shirt, will usually show up in the next load.

It dawned on me a few weeks ago that the number of single socks in the basket were multiplying. To the tune of 8 socks with no mates. I decided I would wait a week and if their twin didn’t show up, they were gonners. When the time came to make good on my proclamation, I couldn’t do it. So there the lonely socks sat…until this week.

As I was pulling yet another load of whites out of the dryer, I noted a sock that I was certain came from the sad sock collection. And then another one fell out – same thing. Sure that I had accidentally washed the mate-less bunch, I dug to the bottom of the basket. Much to my surprise, I found all the singles were still there. THEIR MATES HAD MAGICALLY RETURNED! As I matched the friends up, I noted that the prodigal socks were a little worse for the wear. They were all a little faded and a little stretched. Perhaps the sock gnomes only have one foot and therefore only need one sock? And the like to sit in the sun wearing their sock?

So the moral of the story is this; sock gnomes are annoying, albeit impatient little creeps. Wait them out and your feet will once again be covered in matching footwear.

Reduce, Recycle and Reuse

A few years ago, Peter’s mom and dad gave us two beautiful chimineas straight from Mexico. And literally with in a week, we had broken one of them.

For those not in the know – a chiminea is a little ceramic fireplace for the outdoors.

Well, WE didn’t break it, the umbrella did. If I hadn’t seen what happened with my own eyes, we probably would have never been able to piece the crime scene together. I was on a conference call for work and pacing the house. It was one of those extremely boring calls but one that required me to actually pay attention so pacing kept me from the temptation of Facebook and People.com. As I passed through the living room, I stopped to admire how nice our backyard looked. The plants were green, we had new patio furniture and of course, the chimineas. As I was watching, a small breeze kicked up – and suddenly the umbrella in the new patio table was lifted from its resting place, flipped end over end into the chiminea and landing in the small tree in the corner of the yard. Bam! Just like that, my beautiful utopia was smashed. literally. The chiminea was broken and spilling sand all over the patio, the umbrella broke and arm and more than one delicate branch on the tree was snapped.

Stunned, sad and a little too emotional to trash the broken chiminea, I convinced Peter to help me move it to a spot in the yard where I could turn it into a planter. PW was skeptical and not very supportive, but he can’t say no to my sad face/ nagging so the chiminea found a new home and became a new home for plants.

It dawned on me when I was watering it this week just how pretty the Petunias looked spilling out the front opening and the broken back – and then a little breeze kicked up….Bay and I made sure the umbrellas were all down and then took cover, just in case.

Happy Anniversary!

Yes, that’s right. It was 1 year ago today that The Goon Room was born. I was looking through the stats from the past year and thought I would revisit some of the highest hit posts from the past year and also my personal favorites.

The highest hits in one day was “It’s A Facebook Miracle!”. Not only funny, but something that everyone who has a slight obsession with Facebook can relate to.

My favorite kiddo posts are a mix of me whining about something Bay is or isn’t doing and those that are mushy because she’s so stinking cute – Kiddo Milestones and Daddy Did My Hair are two of the best.

The Rant category always gets  lot of comments and excitement mostly because I’m a snarky, awesome complainer. The best examples are the “ungrateful for” series, specifically 7  Things I’m Ungrateful For. Also I particularly hate tourists and annoying people.

I always get nice comments on my recipes, like the delicious meatballs featured in My Meatballs are Better Than Your Meatballs and the yummy sauce that complements the meatballs so well. However, there were some losers such as Whopper Brownies.

And a few random posts like What the Mary Poppins?! and Phones On A Plane are two of my favorites, well, just because they were fun to write.

So peruse the material from the past year and enjoy – there’s more where this came from. Thank you so much for reading!

Rules Based on Fiction

One of the many benefits of living in Scottsdale Arizona is spring training. That magical time of year when the boys of summer practice America’s Favorite Past Time less than a mile from our house. There are few things that I think are close to what heaven is like – but sitting in the sun, watching a game and drinking a beer is one of them.

I’ve noticed the following occurance before, but never asked why until this season. At most spring training stadiums when a beer, soda or water is purchased, the consessions employee removes the top and then hands the customer the bottle. If asked for the cap, the employee will refuse to give it to the customer.

This may not seem like a big deal, but if I buy a beer and a bottle of water, I really want the water for later and without the cap I risk knocking over the bottle and spilling the water. Which is a very likely scenario. So this makes the whole no cap business pretty annoying. And if it possibly involves possibly spilling my beer, down right scarry.

I asked a concession worker who looked to be about twelve years old why I couldn’t have the cap. He launched into a tirade about how they can’t give the caps because people fill the empty or nearly empty bottles with dirt, seal them with a cap and then launch the dirt bottles at the players. And before I could say “couldn’t they do that anyway without the cap?!” he anticipated my question by saying “and no, it wouldn’t work without the cap so that’s why we don’t give the caps”.

Peter and I promptly decided this was crap and proceeded to the next beer stand – for research of course – and got the same response. As we sipped our beers we were flooded with questions; where do you get the dirt to put in the bottle? If you made a mud mixture, you wouldn’t really need a cap, right? Even if the bottle didn’t have a cap, wouldn’t it still hurt to get hit with a partially filled bottle? Couldn’t you use something other than a cap? Like gum to seal the bottle? And on and on. We were obsessed. Who and where had this horrible atrocity occured thus ruining the containment of liquids for everyone? And was the damage so bad that the entire major leauge got together to make this a rule? Should they ban bottles of every kind? What about peanut bags filled with dirt? Or peanuts? What about hotdogs filled with dirt? The last few may have been the beer talking.

As we walked into the Cubs v Dodgers game on Sunday, we were solicited by a man selling frozen water bottles outside the stadium. His sign said that if you leave the bottle caps sealed, you can take them into the stadium and they were a third of the price than those sold in the stadium. So we bought and sure enough, the ticket takers were more interested in my bag than anything else. So we had done it. We had gotten bottles WITH CAPS into the stadium.

Now, to find some dirt.

Ode to Mr.T

Last week, we said good bye to our dog Travis.  I think I’m finally able to write this without the words blurring from tears and hoping it makes me feel a little better.

We were lucky to have had Trav in our lives for twelve years. He has been there for so many life events for us – he licked high school and college graduation invitations. He chewed up a few wedding invitations. Drove across the country from Phoenix to Washington DC four times happily panting in the back seat of our car with his brother. He was totally terrified of Baylor when she was born, but knew she was his to protect so he always sat inbetween her and any visitor. And while he was always gentle and even a little skittish, he always was up for a good game of “pin the yard guy to the wall”.

Travis was a volunteer with Pets on Wheels and visited many infirmed and elderly always greeting them by sitting sweetly next to them or with gentle paws on the side of their bed. We called him the love sponge because it was impossible to pet him too long – he could have gone bald and would have been perfectly happy to stay there a little longer. We were warned by the breeder that he was “kinda bad” and he lived up to that now and then. He couldn’t leave a giant cube of Costco toilet paper sit idly on the floor – it had to be shreaded into a million pieces and some of it consumed. Upon discovery, he would only look at us with a happy face and wagging tail and an expression that said “isn’t this AWESOME?!”. It was always hard to get mad at that face.

Travis had kidney failure that started several months ago and it became noticeable that it was getting worse over the last few weeks. We knew it was time. Our house feels off balance without him stretched out on the bed, snuggled in the closet, barking at the window, sneaking goldfish crackers with Baylie or enjoying his rediculously tedious meal of kibble, beef broth and ground turkey “al fresco” on the patio. The thought that he’s not just around the corner is crushing.

Travis went by many names: Travis, Trav, Trav Trav, Travie, Trav-meister, Mr. T, Little Man Tate, Tatetells, Tate…he answered happily to all of them.

Some of my favorite pictures of our buddy.

Painting our house in DC

Always the guard dog

Always willing to wear the stupid antlers I had for Christmas

Always watching over his girl

 

Enjoying a Greenie in the sunshine

 

 

 

Take A Hike

Last Sunday afternoon, we decided to venture out to one of the great hiking trails near our home and enjoy some nature. It had rained the night before so we knew the desert would be particularly beautiful. The clouds were big and puffy, the air clear, it couldn’t have been nicer. Peter carried Ms.B in the backpack and we enjoyed some great family time.

The Iphone camera doesn’t do the view justice. There is snow on the Four Peaks in the distance. Cotton candy clouds and blue blue skies.

Happy hikers

What’s in Baylie’s Bag?

I’m starting a new weekly post called “What’s in Baylie’s Bag?”. Since Bay has been able to carry a grocery bag, a beach bag, a shopping bag, a bucket, a bag made for kids or a purse, she has filled it with various items from around the house. She will carry said bag around to various locations, unload some or all of the contents, reload and then move on.  At some point I end up emptying said bag to either clean up the house or if something important has gone missing – a phone, the remote or a shoe – it’s almost guaranteed to be in Baylie’s bag. The contents never fail to make me laugh – it cracks me up to see what she’s found to be important enough to carry around with her. So I laid out her treasures and took a picture. Here’s what was in this week’s REI shopping bag:

Contents:

Barbie

Barbie’s brush

2 pacifiers

Play food cookies and 2 bottles of soda

Nesting cups

A head band

Her UofA hat

Boo boo bunny

A hair tie

Star shaped sunglasses

Swim goggles

Retail Me Not

Peter turned me onto a great website called RetailMeNot.com. It is a coupon type website targeted at online shoppers. It almost always has a free shipping or percentage off coupon for even the smallest sites. Next time  you’re getting ready to check out, be sure and check for a shipping or percentage off coupon at http://www.retailmenot.com!

The Power of Suggestion

As Baylie’s language skills grow, I’ve discovered a very humorous phenomenon.

We have several classes we attend each week that are great chances to not only teach interaction with other kids, but verbal skills and manners. So I’m often heard saying to Baylor “What is your name?” and “Can you please say hello to Ms.Maria?” or “Say ‘bye bye’!”, etc. The thing I find hilarious is if I don’t preface each phrase with Baylie’s name, the person I am trying to get her to talk to will usually be the one to respond, not Bay. I kind of expect it from kids because they are used to someone giving them the same prompts – but when I say “Say ‘hello'” to Baylie and an adult responds “hello!” it cracks me up! If I just randomly asked someone to say hello or tell me their name, there’s no way they would respond. But put a cute blonde toddler in front of them and they’ll say anything.

I should start saying “give them $5” or “what is your credit card number?” and see what kind of response I get. My luck the plan will backfire and Bay will dive into my purse and start rifling through my wallet for goodies to hand out…