I think I'd look good with a beard...
'Mom, you'd make a really good female dwarf.'
The things you never thought would emerge from your children's lips.
This lovely, er, compliment came after I tried to pull off a pirate accent. Apparently 'Be gone with ye!' makes me sound like a short, medieval thing with a big nose and facial hair. I was sort of going for Johnny Depp, but instead I got this.
Beards are back in though, right?
Today I made my way into a much quieter, happier, Old People Mall. Thank goodness for that. There were places to sit and enjoy my breakfast sandwich, as well as plenty of people to smile at my baby. A good time was had by both Spawnling and myself while Gutsy and Intrepid were getting their learn on at school. Thank goodness for institutionalization. Otherwise I'd never get any shopping done.
You know the Christmas season is upon you when the tension starts to build. There are Christmas parties to attend, gifts to purchase, goodies to bake, houses to clean, family members to argue with, friends to cheer up, and over-sugared children to contend with. 'Tis the season to be stressed, fa la la la la, pass the prozac. The child part of me loves the holidays while the adult part (the much smaller portion of my psyche) dreads them like aunt Mildred's body odour-scented hugs. It's a love-hate relationship not seen since Sonny and Cher.
I think it's because our holiday season keeps getting longer in The Maven household. We have Thanksgiving in mid-October followed by Spawnling's birthday, (had to edit here and add The Madre's birthday. Oops. Three guesses which family member I argued with), Hallowe'en, Gutsy's birthday, Intrepid's birthday, Hefner's (the brother formally known as Michael, who is the world's biggest ladies' man) birthday, then Christmas. One very long spell of celebrations without much of a breather. And I don't drink, so no martinis for mommy when everyone's pinning the tale on the donkey or fighting over the candycanes.
In true gremlin fashion, Spawnling just laughed at me in his sleep. He knows his arrival has thrown us another curveball in an already hectic season. I would expect nothing less from any of my little monsters, even of the freshly emerged variety.
Tonight we played Monopoly and I was the first to get my ass kicked. By a ten year old, even. In all fairness, said ten-year old has a big brain, scored Park Place and Boardwalk right off the bat and put down three homes on each before I could say 'Marvin Gardens'. One landing on Boardwalk cost me 1400 big ones. Game over for me. I think I'll feed him food he hates for the next week. That'll learn him.
His ability to make creative decisions comes by him honestly. My grandmother, AKA The Madre's Madre, was going to head out the night before Intrepid's party to get him a card. Unfortunately, the weather was horrid and she was concerned for her safety, so she decided to find a suitable alternative around the house.
The only thing TMM could find was a 'thank you' card. So instead of admitting defeat, she decided to improvise. The front of the card says ' Thank You'. When you open it, there's a label over the original text that reads:
Naturally we were all crying of laughter when we saw it. TMM is one awesome little Brit. She's so full of sass that she makes me look dull. (That implies that I'm NOT dull, just in case there was any confusion. And this is my blog so I get to be anything I want to be. You can disagree on your own blog.)
On the good news front, it looks like Crunchy Mommas is making a bit of a comeback. That's good, because I need a tight little community like that again. A place for me to judge others and feel superior is always good for the ego.
Hey, this is the internet. You don't fit in if you don't think you're right all the time and have some obsessive need to prove it in places that don't really matter. Everyone has a persona on the internet. Take me, for example: In real life I'm full of faults and am always messing something up. On the internet I'm full of faults and am always messing something up, but I'm able to throw some sarcasm and big words in. In turn, people laugh and suddenly I make pathetic look almost... good. Just one of my many useless talents.
Now go post something on Crunchy Mommas. Preferably in disagreement with something I posted so we can get a flame war going and make ourselves feel better.
God bless the internet.
The things you never thought would emerge from your children's lips.
This lovely, er, compliment came after I tried to pull off a pirate accent. Apparently 'Be gone with ye!' makes me sound like a short, medieval thing with a big nose and facial hair. I was sort of going for Johnny Depp, but instead I got this.
Beards are back in though, right?
Today I made my way into a much quieter, happier, Old People Mall. Thank goodness for that. There were places to sit and enjoy my breakfast sandwich, as well as plenty of people to smile at my baby. A good time was had by both Spawnling and myself while Gutsy and Intrepid were getting their learn on at school. Thank goodness for institutionalization. Otherwise I'd never get any shopping done.
You know the Christmas season is upon you when the tension starts to build. There are Christmas parties to attend, gifts to purchase, goodies to bake, houses to clean, family members to argue with, friends to cheer up, and over-sugared children to contend with. 'Tis the season to be stressed, fa la la la la, pass the prozac. The child part of me loves the holidays while the adult part (the much smaller portion of my psyche) dreads them like aunt Mildred's body odour-scented hugs. It's a love-hate relationship not seen since Sonny and Cher.
I think it's because our holiday season keeps getting longer in The Maven household. We have Thanksgiving in mid-October followed by Spawnling's birthday, (had to edit here and add The Madre's birthday. Oops. Three guesses which family member I argued with), Hallowe'en, Gutsy's birthday, Intrepid's birthday, Hefner's (the brother formally known as Michael, who is the world's biggest ladies' man) birthday, then Christmas. One very long spell of celebrations without much of a breather. And I don't drink, so no martinis for mommy when everyone's pinning the tale on the donkey or fighting over the candycanes.
In true gremlin fashion, Spawnling just laughed at me in his sleep. He knows his arrival has thrown us another curveball in an already hectic season. I would expect nothing less from any of my little monsters, even of the freshly emerged variety.
Tonight we played Monopoly and I was the first to get my ass kicked. By a ten year old, even. In all fairness, said ten-year old has a big brain, scored Park Place and Boardwalk right off the bat and put down three homes on each before I could say 'Marvin Gardens'. One landing on Boardwalk cost me 1400 big ones. Game over for me. I think I'll feed him food he hates for the next week. That'll learn him.
His ability to make creative decisions comes by him honestly. My grandmother, AKA The Madre's Madre, was going to head out the night before Intrepid's party to get him a card. Unfortunately, the weather was horrid and she was concerned for her safety, so she decided to find a suitable alternative around the house.
The only thing TMM could find was a 'thank you' card. So instead of admitting defeat, she decided to improvise. The front of the card says ' Thank You'. When you open it, there's a label over the original text that reads:
...for being such a wonderful great-grandson.
Happy birthday.
Naturally we were all crying of laughter when we saw it. TMM is one awesome little Brit. She's so full of sass that she makes me look dull. (That implies that I'm NOT dull, just in case there was any confusion. And this is my blog so I get to be anything I want to be. You can disagree on your own blog.)
On the good news front, it looks like Crunchy Mommas is making a bit of a comeback. That's good, because I need a tight little community like that again. A place for me to judge others and feel superior is always good for the ego.
Hey, this is the internet. You don't fit in if you don't think you're right all the time and have some obsessive need to prove it in places that don't really matter. Everyone has a persona on the internet. Take me, for example: In real life I'm full of faults and am always messing something up. On the internet I'm full of faults and am always messing something up, but I'm able to throw some sarcasm and big words in. In turn, people laugh and suddenly I make pathetic look almost... good. Just one of my many useless talents.
Now go post something on Crunchy Mommas. Preferably in disagreement with something I posted so we can get a flame war going and make ourselves feel better.
God bless the internet.