Listening to: Aerosmith - Sing With Me
Mood: Crack head type awake
Hope you like the design changes that I just did. I thought it was about time to play around with blogger’s features a bit. The couch image is a bit self explanatory. My couches are this brick red color, so I thought it fit.
It’s a bit more than a little ironic that I posted yesterday about magnet hands. As I was doing laundry in the evening, I noticed that our laundry card had gone missing. Our washers and driers use a credit card type card that you re-monetize at a machine and then insert into the machine to use. I was sure that I put it on our craft table along with the detergent, as I usually do. When I went to get it, it was missing and because my eldest daughter was using that table, I assumed that she had moved it. Now keeping my previous post in mind, this wasn’t an idiotic assumption. Well, I got after her about it quite a bit. She didn’t deny it, but she didn’t admit it either. I couldn’t find it for anything and just got more annoyed as time went on.
After the kids went to bed, our house got cold and I threw on my favorite black Dickies sweatshirt. I had it on earlier, but gave it no thought when I took it off. I reached my hands into my pocket, and guess what I found. Yep. So I basically felt like an asshat jerk for getting after my daughter when it was completely my fault. You should have seen her face this morning when I apologized to her and explained what happened. It was that “I told you I didn’t do it you silly heffer!” look. Sigh.
I know every parent wins one of these awards at some point in time, but it doesn’t help you feel less like a prick.
Becky
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
The Amazing Magnet Hands
Mood: awake, for the first time in 2 weeks
Listening to: Buck Cherry – Sorry
Hi. You’re still around. Wow. I’ve been out in the middle of earth somewhere all this time, most of the time not connected to my blog, to my dismay. Life has just been like that lately. Real life is sort of sucking out any and all time I used to have to do adult type stuff. I got a job last month. A real-adult-type-paying job. One that doesn’t require plastic gloves or asking if someone wants fries with that. Whoo hoo!!! Unfortunately, this means that I am a little busier than before. My kids are now 5 ½ and 17 months. Just the right ages for insanity.
My elder daughter has always had magnets for hands. She absolutely cannot help herself but touch everything and anything within imagining distance. It’s nice in a way that she learns through tactile means, but good lord almighty, it keeps me on the razor’s edge. I can never relax, because if I do, then she will find something such as aforementioned razor, or a hot iron, or a glass vase, (all of which are never supposed to be reachable by her in our house) and find creative uses for it. The younger one is at an age where it’s fun to pick everything up. I’m sure you can imagine why taking them both to a store is a special type of hell that I’m not willing to endure more than, say, once a year. It’s almost like they both have magnets on their hands. They don’t even need to get that close to an object, but it will mysteriously appear in their hands anyhow. I’m sure it’s quite amusing to sit back and watch as my brain explodes trying to find out how the baby ended up holding a comb that was on the top shelf of a medicine cabinet that she hasn’t been in.
Becky
Listening to: Buck Cherry – Sorry
Hi. You’re still around. Wow. I’ve been out in the middle of earth somewhere all this time, most of the time not connected to my blog, to my dismay. Life has just been like that lately. Real life is sort of sucking out any and all time I used to have to do adult type stuff. I got a job last month. A real-adult-type-paying job. One that doesn’t require plastic gloves or asking if someone wants fries with that. Whoo hoo!!! Unfortunately, this means that I am a little busier than before. My kids are now 5 ½ and 17 months. Just the right ages for insanity.
My elder daughter has always had magnets for hands. She absolutely cannot help herself but touch everything and anything within imagining distance. It’s nice in a way that she learns through tactile means, but good lord almighty, it keeps me on the razor’s edge. I can never relax, because if I do, then she will find something such as aforementioned razor, or a hot iron, or a glass vase, (all of which are never supposed to be reachable by her in our house) and find creative uses for it. The younger one is at an age where it’s fun to pick everything up. I’m sure you can imagine why taking them both to a store is a special type of hell that I’m not willing to endure more than, say, once a year. It’s almost like they both have magnets on their hands. They don’t even need to get that close to an object, but it will mysteriously appear in their hands anyhow. I’m sure it’s quite amusing to sit back and watch as my brain explodes trying to find out how the baby ended up holding a comb that was on the top shelf of a medicine cabinet that she hasn’t been in.
Becky
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