I'm really not that busy

Finding hilarity in the mundane since 2008

Monthly Archives: January 2009

So its not easy being green


Took this picture yesterday at a stoplight.  I can’t add anything, it speaks for itself.

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So it turns out you already knew

I keep rolling the Ministry of Mediocrity thing around in my head.  I discussed it here and here in case you need a refresher.  I really thought I would do an occasionally recurring post where I revealed a mediocre thing about myself in order to help you, my never mediocre readers, feel great about yourselves.  So far that hasn’t happened.

Turns out I’ve been scared.  I am afraid that if I start revealing my mediocrity, it will morph into revealing my meshugenah (By the way, that’s Yiddish for crazy. I had to go with meshugenah for the alliteration factor).  I am worried that I will think I am sharing simple silly things when I am actually revealing crazy things that will cause those of you who love me and my kids to call the authorities.  I’m serious.
But, then I reread some posts to get some perspective.  Turns out you already know how crazy I am.  I don’t really hold much back.  I have shared the meshugenah in large doses and so far I am not under observation at the county hospital and my kids are not in foster care. 
I am feeling particularly crazy tonight, but I can’t seem to get a post out of it.  We had an ice storm Tuesday and Wednesday.  Our electricity has been hit or miss and I have not had a waking minute away from my kids since the 20th.  Today I gave Truck a hug and told him the kids were driving me crazy.  He said “its not a far trip”.
So stick with me, I know it has not been a good blog week for me.  You were looking for the meshugenah and all I had was mediocre. 

So have I ever told you how much Worm likes his sandbox?



Worm really, really, really likes his sandbox. 

This afternoon I stuck my head out the back door in an attempt to take some pictures of the ice for Jo (because the beeyotch is in Hawaii where there is NOT currently an ice storm). Somehow, the worm managed to sneak past me.  He made a bee-line for his sandbox.  He did not care that it is currently an ice rink. 
Seriously, the sand is under a good three inches of solid ice.  
He was wearing a fleece sweat-suit and fuzzy socks and did not care that it was 18 degrees.  He was so furious with me for bringing him in that I finally had to run him a bath because the bathtub is the only thing he likes better than the sandbox.
Maybe he would like a dog crate?  I would give him toys and snacks…. sometimes.

So winter can kiss my…

Our power went out Tuesday around 2 p.m, right after I posted that I was pouting about the sucky winter weather.  It finally came back on around 10:30 this morning.  Power outages are still rampant all over the area.  

Luckily, I have a good friend in the neighborhood who has a hubby that does not travel for work (usually), is handy with tools, likes to cook on the grill in ice storms and thinks large scale power outages are a fun adventure.  In other words, he is the polar opposite of Truck.  Not that Truck wouldn’t be useful in an ice storm, he just wouldn’t be chipper about it.
The boys and I crashed at their house.  They already have three boys and a tight budget, but they didn’t think twice about housing and feeding us.  I feel very lucky to have such good friends.
Anyway, I am all off schedule and out of sorts because of the stupid ice storm.  Maybe I will have mentally recovered by the time I get the kids in bed.  Check back tonight and maybe I will have found someone to mock or something embarrassing about myself to share. 

So my Tuesday sucks

Stupid winter weather.  Stupid city with bare minimum winter weather road crews. Stupid schools and their winter weather policies. Stupid winter weather.  Yes I said that twice.

I am not getting my Tuesday.  My mama reserves are not getting replenished today.
I will now proceed to pout about this.

So Huck learns to use the toaster oven – sort of

One of my lavish and many Christmas gifts was a toaster oven.  Okay, its not really lavish.  But it was one of many.  By the way, I did ask for it, just clarifying that practical gifts are always my idea, not Truck’s. 

Anyway, Huck thinks its cool and has been asking me to teach him how to use it.  Sunday morning seemed like a good time for this.  I decided to teach him how to toast a bagel from start to finish. I didn’t realize how many steps there were to toasting a bagel that he had never learned how to do. 
First, he had trouble spotting the bagels in the fridge (that must be a male thing, if it is not in your direct line of sight it is forever lost).  Then he struggled to remove the plastic tab holding the bagel sack closed.  Next there was the actual pulling the bagel apart into two slices without mangling it. I always buy “perforated” bagels due to an unfortunate bagel slicing incident I had at 15.  Finally we were ready to actually use the toaster oven.
Its a very well made toaster oven so the door is tough to open if you are feeling hesitant at all (the cheapies practically fall open). Its not hard to open if you set to it with purpose, but as a first timer he was feeling less than purposeful.  Once the door was open, the bagel placement was uneventful, as was the setting of the knob to toast.  However, the timer knob gave us pause.  
To set this knob for toasting, you must turn it past the 20 minute mark and then forward again to your desired toast darkness.  Huck didn’t like this because it didn’t make sense to him.  He wondered aloud why he couldn’t just set it to medium dark and be done.  I have wondered this myself, so I could only offer a pathetic “because that’s what the instruction book says”.
Illogical settings aside, the bagel toasted beautifully.  It was now time for the real test: can he remove the toasted bagel from a very hot oven without incident or injury?  Also, can I let him do it with out freaking out or stepping in and taking over?
No.
With giant red oven mitts protecting his hands and wrists, Huck opened the toaster oven and began to reach in.  I immediately stopped him because his bare arm was dangerously close to the hot oven door.
With repositioned arms and giant red oven mitts protecting his hands and wrists, Huck again began to reach in.  I stopped him.  He was grabbing the tray instead of the bagels.  I foresaw a burning hot metal tray swinging out toward my own bare arms or being dropped on our scantily socked feet.
With a better understanding of what he was pulling out, repositioned arms and giant red oven mitts protecting his hands and wrists, Huck reached into the toaster oven for a third time. This time I actually yelled “Stop! Move!” And may or may not have given him a little shove.
Now before you go all you’re a completely insane control freak on me, let me explain.  He was taking a very long time to grab the bagels (possibly due to the excessively gigantic oven mitts) and the oven mitts were starting to smoke a bit because he was touching the still hot element (again possibly because the mitts were excessively gigantic).  I had to step in before his hands caught fire.
I know that his hands were not actually going to burst into flame.  Now.  I know that now.  But my mama-vision saw HANDS ON FIRE and I reacted instinctually.
After that he gave up.  I buttered the bagel and poured the milk.  He ran around the kitchen wearing the oven mitts and yelling “I am Mitten Man, face the vengeance of my well-protected hands!”
Yup, just a regular ol’ Sunday morning for Mitten Man and Overprotective Woman.

So Huck considered the Presidency

Last night, after I read “Change Has Come” with Huck, we had this conversation:

Huck – You know that day earlier this week?  The big one?
Mama – The Inauguration?
Huck – Yes.  Well after Miss J. showed us the in-awg-ra-shun on the internet, she read us a book about The White House.  Did you know that Barack Obama and his family get to live in The White House now and they get to redecorate The Oval Office to their own taste?
Mama – Yeah, I heard about that.
Huck – So now I can’t decide if I want to be a civil engineer or The President when I grow up.
Mama – You want to be The President so you can live in The White House?
Huck – And redecorate The Oval Office to my taste.
Mama – (Holding back laughter at mental picture of The Oval Office redecorated to the taste of a six year old boy) Okay, do you know how you become The President?  Other than getting elected, I mean.
Huck – No, is it hard to do?
Mama – Sort of, yeah.


So I am dropping the Considering Huck Column

Coco pointed out to me that this blog would be special to my kids someday because it records the funny little things no one will remember in a few years.  I hadn’t considered that, but she is right. Then I realized that the things I am putting in the Considering Huck column are not being saved because I just re-write it every few days.  So I am ending the column and putting Considering Huck into post form.  All the deeeeeeep thoughts will still be here, just not on the left any more.

So I’m not having a stroke

Today Worm and I went to visit Coco at work.  As most of you know, taking Worm anywhere requires lots of stuff.  So I have a diaper bag full of snacks, drinks, toys, clothes, and of course diapers.  I shove my cute little purse into the giant ugly bag, hoist Worm on my hip, and in we go. As soon as I open the doors and enter the lobby I hear this song.

I think to myself, WTF?  Violent Femmes? I LOVE this song.  Then I think, when did they install a sound system in the lobby.  THEN I think, why would one of the most respected and buttoned-up law firms in Northwest Arkansas be playing this song in the lobby?
Oh God!  I’m having auditory hallucinations.  My blood pressure has been elevated since the end of my pregnancy.  I eat too much sodium.  This is a TIA.  This is a stroke.
So I shift Cooper in my arms to get a better grip in case I am about to slump over and the song changes to this
Then it hits me.  I have my iPhone on my hip.  Cooper is sitting on my hip.  My phone has been bumped and is shuffling through my playlist.
Thank God!  I am not having a stroke.
Oh crap!  People are in the lobby waiting to see their respected & buttoned-up attorneys and they are now staring at me.  They did not look like fans of punk.  Too bad for them.  

So I owe facebook an apology

Dear Facebook,

I cannot fully express the sincere regret I have for the terrible things I said about you in the past. I called you stupid and a waste of time.  I mocked you and those that used you.
I was wrong.  You rock!  
With your help, I am reconnecting with people I thought were gone from my life forever.  I sincerely appreciate you.
Humbly,
Jennifer Lake Seawright Collins

So Change has Come

Most people who know me, know that I am not particularly sentimental.  I don’t usually cry at weddings (except I sobbed through mine, hmmmm) and I can appreciate a touching story without shedding tears.  So I was a bit taken aback by my reaction to a little children’s book this morning.

While walking through Target I spied the book “Change Has Come” drawings by Kadir Nelson, words by Barack Obama.  It looked like a nice keepsake of the Obama presidency, the first new president in my boys’ lives, so I tossed it in my cart.
Back home, after the purchases were stashed, the baby was fed, the dishes done and the floor swept, I sat down and looked at the book.  Wow!  I was not prepared for such a strong reaction.
It is a simple book.  The words are all taken from Obama’s speeches and the drawings are scratchy pen and ink.  I think it was the simplicity that hooked me.  Too much pomp would have turned me off.
I found the drawings particularly touching.  Something about pen and ink was so right for this moment.  Some people don’t like pen and ink because it is rough.  They dislike that it feels hurried or more like a draft than a completed work.  I like pen and ink for those exact reasons. It is like the artist wanted to get his impression down on paper before it floated away.  Pen and ink is real, no editing, no polishing.
I know the words that were used in this book were probably chosen carefully and with much debate, but I’m okay with that.  I have a pretty low tolerance for prose that try too hard.  These hit the right note for me.
As I read this book, I began to tear up and by the final page I was openly weeping.  I was so overwhelmed by the significance of Obama’s presidency, that I wanted to rush right to Huck’s school and share the book with him. 
I wanted to explain to him what it means for America to have a black president.  I wanted to tell him about our historical mistakes and triumphs. I wanted him to understand that the election of Barack Obama is a way for America to truly realize its potential.  I wanted to tell him that America is now The Land of Opportunity for everyone.  I wanted to tell him that change has come.
I will tell him all these things tonight after we read the book.  
I urge you to buy this book for the children in your life, no matter what your politics are. Change is good, embrace it.

So I’m sticking with the music theme, apparently

I don’t usually like remakes of anything.  I like original movies, songs, snack foods.  Whatever it is, just leave it alone.  However, there is one remake I like.
Pretty much everyone under the age of 40 knows the song Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve. I like that song as much as the next guy, which must be quite a bit considering the amount of airplay it got in 1997.
Anyway, I found a remake of it by Ace Enders and a Million Different People.  I like his version so much better that I have gotten over how overplayed the original was.  I find it particularly cool that several different people sing on this song, but I didn’t notice it at first.  
If you like this song, buy it on itunes and the proceeds will go to VH1 Save the Music, which is dedicated to restoring music programs to public schools.

So I made you a game of I Spy

Hello and welcome to I Spy, bathtub edition!  Today you will be looking for the following items:

The number five
A duck that’s yellow
A funny little nekkid fellow
A whale
A book
A ball that’s brown
Spongbob floating upside down
A rainbow fish
A metal cup
The winner gets to pick all this sh*t up!
Thanks for playing

So this one is for my mom

She used to sing this when I was little, alas, not with sock puppets.  Also, the band that played at my wedding did a great rendition, again not with sock puppets.  Sock puppetry is a lost art.

There are many clips of this song to choose from and they are quite diverse.  From cool harmonica or banjo instrumentals to scary rednecks doing a VERY racist version (seriously, does no one monitor youtube at all?).  I chose this one because it was family friendly and made me laugh.

So here is one for Huck

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