A Walk In My Shoes

It's that time again when things get "busy, busy, busy" (please say it like the magician from "Frosty the Snowman") and I begin to neglect my blog (begin?).
Because I am NOT above paying people to stick around despite my temporary absence, I have a gift...


Remember when there was a "family hour" on T.V.? 

You know, the safe time when kids could be in the room while the tube was on?
One didn't have to worry about language, inappropriate viewing or commercials of girls obscenely washing their hair.
Some of you may not remember good, clean shows. Sad. I do and I miss it.
I really miss how families used to be able to gather around on the weekend to watch a family show (without Dad holding the remote readied for a quick change when things get seedy).

This is why I was more than happy to review Walmart and P&G's new made-for-TV movie, "A Walk in My Shoes". They are heralding that, "family movie night is back". Hallelujah. It's about time.

I have a confession. Thanks to my ever-dependable military postal system, my viewing kit still hasn't arrived.  Chances are good that you will see it before I do, but I have seen trailers and I'm SO ready.



 Do yourself a favor, set your TIVO or whatever it is you're using for "family movie night" on December 3rd.
PLEASE show Hollyweird that we're ready for more entertainment geared for families. If you Tweet, FB or blog a tune-in message about this,
leave me a comment telling me how you spread the word and you will be entered to win this "A Walk in My Shoes" CD/DVD bundle for your very own!

oooooh, aaaaaaaah....

Winner will be announced on December 3rd.  THAT's a pretty nice gift for getting a few days reprieve from unnecessary eye strain, don't you think?

Technologically-Challenged Need Not Apply

I give up. I'm exposing myself for the technologically inept person I am.
HOW the heck do I get the Link within widget to work?
Please don't tell me to contact them, they don't care.
I have googled solutions and nearly crashed my entire blog.
What am I doing wrong?
Teach me.
I'm humble, I'll listen.


Oh. And it's snowing here. loads. I'm happy about it.

Ch ch ch changes

This year we're having a kid tree. 

Boooo to me, trying to impress people with House Beautiful-worthy trees and color-coordinated decorations. We're changing. This year it's just kids enjoying Christmas--the way it should be when they're young. I don't know how I became so un-fun, but hopefully I can make up for it.

The girl is wide-eyed and enjoying all of our moving ornaments for the first time. Her dad is changing our UK lights to accommodate our US Darth Vader, skating Pooh and Brenda Lee singing "Rockin' Around, the Christmas Tree..." it's magical.

 You can predict what she will say, this little princess of ours...

"I want to be a boy"

(what, you didn't see that coming?)

Dad: "Oh, I don't want you to be a boy, you make such a pretty little girl"

"I'm stuffed being a girl"

(stuffed?)

"Everything gets in my eyes"

Dad: "Oh, are we going to have to cut your hair off?"

"Yes. I will be bald like a fish".

Ahhh, the sounds of the holidays...

Dear Hubby,

I know you said our finances were tight.

I understand how our Cost of Living allowance has plummeted even though the cost of things on the UK market hasn't changed, and that the plane ticket to bring Number One Son home for Christmas before he enters Basic Training was pricey.

I get that.

I also know that inviting 12 additional people to Thanksgiving might have increased our grocery bill a teeny bit and so you were right to reign in my spending habits...




but I miss Stefan and Damon (not so much Elana). Last I saw, Damon really needed a hug...

(certainly not my photo and can't find info for photo credit)

I miss Alicia and I don't know if she chose Will or Peter and I don't know how much longer
the UK will make me wait to find out.

CBS Photos

I really miss my friends, McDreamy and McSteamy...

I miss my night time friends that allow me to sit in my jammies while they do all of the talking. They never ask anything of me-- they don't demand meals without cheese, without sauce, without eggs, without yucky things. They never leave me their laundry or expect me to drop everything when their schedule changes. They never require my attendance at training or organizational meetings. Not once has any of them dumped a boat load of responsibilities on me while they went off to visit family or attend parties. They are good friends. I miss them. I'm sure I mentioned that Damon needs me.

So,
if you could kindly disregard that list I subtly emailed you back in August, I think an iTunes Gift card would be a better Christmas gift.

Thank you.

Respectfully Yours,

Your Wife. The one watching QI re-runs (which happened to be very good the first few viewings, but I am answering the questions before they do now).

Confessions...

... yours not mine. I've told enough out here.

I think teaching on Sunday may be bad for my marriage and role as mother. 
Today's lesson was about "Participating in the Cultural Arts".
It only succeeded in convincing me that I live with a bunch of Neanderthals, lead by the king of uninterested-in-all-things-artsy, Sir Sexy Guy.

 As I was making Lasagna (when truthfully I should be in bed suffocating in a Vick's body wrap), they all played Fifa and grunted when they couldn't get their "player transfers" approved.
I lectured suggested to them some parts of my lesson: "...what are ways in which (you) can seek to enrich (your) lives with the cultural arts and prepare to enrich the lives of (your) children and others?

• Go to the library and select a classic work of literature to read alone or with a friend.
• Read aloud with your family.
• Read a favorite poem or share a piece of music with your family and tell why you like it.
• Write a poem yourself or lyrics for a piece of music.
• Write a dramatization of a scriptural story for your class or family.
• Look through your music and books and eliminate those that are not uplifting.
• Begin or add to your collection of quality music or books.
• Frame some beautiful artwork for your room.
• Try sketching, lettering, drawing, or some other form of art.
• Study a play, piece of music, or opera before attending a performance.
• Be selective about television viewing and watch for educational and cultural programs."  
*taken from lesson 45 of the YW Manual.

They looked at me as if I was speaking Latin-- which of course would be unappealing to them as it doesn't have penalties or free kicks involved.

Eternity is looking like a very long time right now, so I need some convincing. Confessions.
Do you and your spouse have a lot in common? Or are you alone in your interests/culture/education?

Is this just a midlife crises, this desire to have someone who knows that Monet and Manet are two different beings and not just a mispelling?

Edouard Manet "Un Bar Aux Folies Bergeres"

Look at her face... do you think she's pondering the same questions? 

 

Is it possible this disheartening feeling is curable with more Nyquil and some sleep?

 

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Ornament Exchange and Great British Advertising

I crashed found a new blog doing an ornament exchange. 

Great thing is, The Mrs. was gracious enough to welcome me and my obnoxious way of 

inviting myself everywhere. 

If you're like me and can't wait to mail or receive goodies, 

the deadline to sign up is November 20th-- get on over there now if you want to play!! 

(click on the ornaments to go to her blog, "Trying Our Best")

And obviously I am not the only person who enjoys this advert-- they're re releasing it as a single now.
Making Farming Sexy

Bits and Bobs

We were sitting semi-reverently in church on Sunday.
Miss Ky was properly positioned on the lap of the man she adopted as "Grandad" four years ago.
She proceeded to pull things out of her pockets that she had drawn while in her primary class.
"Wow Ky, that's really terrific, did you draw that?" I whisper.
She nods yes to me.
I don't want to be one of those Mom's that speaks zombie-like and generically to her child, so to show I was really interested in her drawing, I pointed to the face and said, "You are very talented, just look how good those eyes are".
"Yes", she proudly answers, "And I drawed the girly bits as well."

A Swan.
I am like a swan gliding effortlessly on the water in my response.

I calmly begin folding the drawing and whisper that we'll talk more about it after church but my mind, paddling frantically against the possibilities wonders: Did Grandad just hear her? Did she proudly point out the "girly bits" to her Primary teacher? WHO ON EARTH HAS BEEN TEACHING HER THIS ??
I lean out to look further down our row at a very mischievous 7 year old...


All I know is Miss Ky will NOT be designing our Christmas cards this year

Shiny Happy Grateful People

All of you people who are posting all of the things you are grateful for...

who are you?

Really?

30 days of being grateful?

Ok, I'm joking. I have LOADS of things to be grateful for-- so many that I will skip the obvious/cliche ones.

1. I am grateful for not being thrown up on this month (Hubby can't say that).
2. I am super grateful that I have internet to shop for the things that the base only felt the need to stock two of.
3. I am again grateful for the internet that allowed me to see reviews on the dysfunctional Disney bath dolls that I would have bought willy-nilly if there had been one to buy at the BX.
4. I am grateful for spam that leads to free products for me-- just for flappin' my lips about their product. Who Hoot! Bring on the chocolate reviews!
5. I am grateful Toys R' Us didn't feel the need to contact me for a review because, who needs more toys in the house? (Did that come across as bitter?)
6. Boy howdy am I grateful for my kettle. You people in the U.S., I don't know if you have these yet, but water kettles over here bring cold agua to a rapid boil in seconds. Makes my life SO much easier!
7. I am eternally grateful for toilet paper. We could be using leaves and this time of year that's not so appealing. Crunch.
8. I'm still thankful for being sick a few weeks ago even if I didn't lose weight...long story why I would be grateful and now you can be thankful I'm not telling it.
9. SO grateful that I was able to hand the phone over to the Hubby so HE could try to talk some sense into the #1 Son who is giving up on his dream (Special Ops) job and settling for an AF career as "Bomb-take-apart-er" (that may not be the official title).
10. Grateful for tranquilizers which I plan to exist on when the kid signs the contract to dispose of bombs for the next 6 years.
11. Cliche, I know. Top of everybody's list, yes, but still have to say I am SO FLIPPING THANKFUL FOR PUMPKIN PIE and a holiday (or two) that allows me to make and eat as much of it as I want.
12. I'm thankful for EGGNOG too as long as we're on the menu.
13. SUPER duper grateful that no one in my family feels they need green bean casserole to have a successful T-day dinner.
14. I am thankful for Jamie Oliver's storage containers that make me work for my salt water taffy, thereby reducing my consumption since I seem to break a nail every time I try to pop one open.
15. I am eternally thankful for toilet cleaner "that cleans so (I) don't have to", thus allowing me more time to blog nonsense.
16. This is a long thankful, but my most important one: I am grateful that when Son #1 was discouraged by his swimming time and decided to throw in the towel (see #9 and 10), I didn't lecture.   I only fretted for a minute and then prayed. I prayed that it would be His will whatever was going to be J's future.  I'm grateful that I really turned it over and didn't stress about it. It helped me more fully appreciate the phone call the very next day, "Hey, I have a job"--and it's in broadcasting. His recruiter had him audition several weeks ago and was just told that J was successful.
17. I'm grateful for the moms and dads that have raised honorable sons and daughters willing to sacrifice their lives in service in the military for my rights and privileges. May you experience peace and comfort during this Veteran's Day away from your loved one.
18. I'm grateful for Sexy Guy--for his dedication to serving his country and for all he does as a husband and a father. Especially for taking one for the team whenever there's a sick child. Thank you for saving my carpet time and time again, Hubby ;-)

Now, the rest of you, be grateful that I'm not really going to make you read 30 things...

Happy Veteran's Day weekend to you all.

Great British Advertising: Bing Crosby, White Christmas for Argos

Is it wrong that I thought this was funny?

Oh Chrissy You're So Fine...

Remember last year when I got nostalgic about my childhood and had to have (just fill in the blank)?

How about the crazed search I went on to find a Koo Koo Choo Choo that I wouldn't let the family play with for fear of breaking it since it's considered "antique" now?

not my photo...duh

 Or the year before when I spent one child's college fund on a doll's house?

Non-pirated photo

Well this year is the worse.

Not because of what I may have spent (not telling), but because I spent it and then hid the purchase. I have never hidden purchases before.

I am slipping down a very deceitful toy-slope my friends.



Shhhh, I'll show you.

Under my desk, in the dark corner...

See it there in the back?


Here, I'll pull it out a little.

Opening the box...





ooooh, ahhhh.







Smell that smell?  




That's the 70's my friends.









My mom heard my confession (I think I phoned her still in the shopping-drunken stupor of my paypal transaction).

 She's not telling Hubby and look!

She even mailed me the clothes that she sewed for the originals (can't get fabric like that just anywhere!).  

Is there a 12-Step program for toyaholics? 

What are YOU hiding these days?

seeing them standing in my scrapbook room like that suddenly gives the cherished dolls from my childhood a very creepy feel.

Get back in the box girls, Hubby's coming!




Addendum: I just did a search for "bought" on my blog and found some "interesting" blog posts... a lot of them. Apparently I talk a lot about "bought"ing, but when trying to remember what I just had to have last year, came up blank. Oh dear...

Your Momma's Gone Missing

In the event that your Momma has gone missing,

it's best to retrace your steps to see where she might have been mislaid.

Go back as far as your memory will take you-- Thursday night?

Let's see, you might have seen her come home from her big church event that had caused her a week of stress (and a snapped party tent from the high winds that threatened her plans).

You might remember her standing at Dad's car saying, "What is that burning smell?" followed by a forlorn look when she realized yet again, she would be without a car while his went back into the garage.

Wait, she was still accounted for Friday morning when she was called back to the school to fetch a little girl who was miserably constipated... and you might remember her (vaguely) at the Guy Fawkes Bonfire evening with friends. She was the one who sat in the bathroom the whole night with Miss Ky while you all ate BBQ'd burgers and set off fireworks.

No, Mom wasn't missing at 9.00pm when Miss Ky threw up and she hoisted up the white flag-- deciding to finally take her home...
and didn't Mom greet everyone else at 10.00 when they came laughing in the door?

Saturday?

Pretty sure she was still doing bathroom duty with Miss Ky and when everyone but Mom piled into a car to go see the Norwich game, she was still accounted for.

Maybe it was after the full day standing in the bitter cold wind and sporadic rain for a kids' football game and then suffering through a burned burger with greasy chips with the team (you know, the new thing they started to build social bonds between the kids)...

You might seem to remember her setting up a table to scrapbook on (a joke on it's own)-- conveniently placing a chair next to it. Convenient for you to swipe for Rock Band while she put your dinner in the oven.
Remember how she sneezed and coughed and blew her nose every five minutes while you sang, and drummed and laughed merrily away in the other room?

That seems to be when she went missing.

My advice is, when you find her, you better do the sucking up of your life because the woman knows how to use a credit card and flights are always leaving Heathrow...

Dear School Officials Who May Or May Not Be Preparing A Report For The Child Neglect Agency,

I do wash my children's clothes. Daily. Meaning ALL day every day.
Maybe my observation skills could be sharpened so that I catch the child who chose the muddy trousers over the lavendar-vanilla scented ones hanging in his wardrobe before we get in the car, but I only have two eyes and four children moving about so rapidly they appear more like eight Mexican jumping beans.
The third child's collection of school jumpers? Thank you for forcing him to finally bring them home. Unfortunately I found them after midnight, rolled into his swimming bag with all of his wet things...

I do bathe my children regularly.
I can't control what they do while I am asleep (for the three hours I am NOT doing laundry), nor can I stop them from playing musical bed during the night--possibly ending up with a sibling who drools. The Pop Rocks? I have NO idea how they got in the bed and do have a photo proving that her hair was washed prior to sleeping in them.

If you are unhappy with the way my children fall asleep in Math class, I welcome you to come look after them while I drive siblings to activities (which puts the entire clan to bed long after the pubs have closed). I assure you, I have gladly made the decision to cut non-priority items from our schedule. If you could just help me enforce that decision--beginning with asking my Hubby to try NOT cutting his finger off just before dinner. Driving to a hospital an hour away can really wreak havoc on sleeping schedules. And yes, Mr. Graceful is fine.

Also, kindly disregard any tall-tales you may have heard today of a mother beginning her child's day with: "What were you thinking?!" and "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry, but 30 years from now you will NOT EVEN REMEMBER THIS DAY, much less be angry at me for making you late", it's probably something they heard on the television.

By the way...why WOULD I apologize for driving one kid ALL THE WAY TO HIS SCHOOL (now making three others late) because he missed the bus when I insisted he SHOWER?

Lastly, the youngest child really didn't want me there for her special school tour and had repeatedly told me so. Out of respect for her growing independence, I thought it was best to leave her to it in your lovely little classroom with the sand box (and her friends) while I chatted with the other parents (who had obviously chosen to do the same thing).

So in case your first impression is that my children are unattended, tired, disheveled and dirty, I ask that you would look again. My children are fed, clean and relatively unbeaten which is better care than I'm getting-- have you ever had a four year-old kick you in the kidneys while you were trying to sleep (in between loads of laundry)?

You are welcome to come to our home at any time to observe their care. They are available for your supervision any day ending with "y".

Kindest Regards,

The wild beasts' Mum.