What Did You Say?

Husband is going away for a week. To a beautiful place. For work.
Leading up to this excursion, he has said some pretty schtoopid things:

As I have moaned for three days about the lack of passion/direction/rewarding life experiences I am accumulating, he turns to me and says, "Have you heard of...(foreign historical site)?"
"No." I answer, but just by the name I can tell where it is.
"I'm thinking I might go there when my plane lands...


yes, you do that.

Last night I ask, "Are you packed?"
I have to do this with him or he will wait until the night before his flight and then pack until 3 am (with all lights engaged) when I am expected to drive him to the airport at 4am. He will sleep on the plane, I will come back home and get kids ready for school. "I started," He says.

"Did you pack your running things?" Training for a half-marathon doesn't take a holiday because he's in a different country, "Well, some, but the rest of it hasn't been washed yet."

Source: LiveJournal

The end of that sentence weighs more than I did when delivered Miss Ky.

So, I walk (with attitude) into the laundry room where there is ONE running shirt and TWO pairs of shorts. WTH? The man has several other running shirts and he can't pack because I haven't done his laundry in the last ten minutes?



Yesterday, I stood on a frozen pitch watching J2 become a mud man in football training, thinking of how I'm going to be soaking those white shorts and socks for a week. Have I mentioned how I loathe laundry? My wellies do not do much for warmth and I may have lost all use of my toes permanently. Nearly two hours he trained.

We enter the house, Mud man and Frozen me, to be greeted by Husband who is dressed to go for his run... "it should take an hour". The kids need lunch and the 7 year-old needs to wrap a gift and sign a card for his best friend's birthday that starts in an hour and a half...
 I have to award him points. One look at my face and he decided he could do his "long" run on Monday. In a different country.

Daughter says some interesting things too. Some can't be repeated. REALLY would like to know where they come from...
Tonight, the kids are playing a game at the dinner table while I wash up the pans. It sounds a little like "Spin-the Bottle" but the "bottle" may be a fork being spun around on my nice wood table-- not sure. Don't want to look. I hear LOTS of laughter.

"THIS person," J2 declares, "Will have to stand on a chair and sing..."

giggle giggle followed by Hysterical laughing when the person is picked and has to do their dare.

Next turn, "This person... has to go on to Britains Got Talent and just fart and burp".

They're convulsing now.

"THIS person has to go on Britain's Got Talent NEKKED!"

Miss Ky shouts, "ME! Pick ME!"

1958 Ladies Home Journal Ad

Oh dear...

Life Isn't Like A Box of Chocolates...

or a bowl of cherries...

it's more like a Thanksgiving dinner with a dysfuntional family.

There I'm standing in a hot kitchen. My hair hasn't been done and my makeup is from yesterday, and I'm holding a turkey I'm not overly proud of.

Despite my dreams of succulent meat and perfectly seasoned, crackling skin, I am holding a disappointment. This isn't how I wanted my turkey to be. It's not what I worked so hard for.

In comes MawMaw. I look to her for support. I quickly pour my sad turkey tale onto her shoulders.

She replies, "Yeah, that's how it is, I had a turkey like that".

I don't feel any better. I almost feel like her failed turkey comment is a veiled accusation-- like I was the reason for her disappointing turkey.

I'm not sad to see her back as she returns to the dining room.

My relief is short-lived. PooPoo enters. Oh Poo Poo. For years he's said what he means and what he says is mean, but he gets away with it because he is old. He takes one look at the turkey and says, "You know, if you disciplined those kids more, you'd have more time to have a terrific turkey. There's no reason they can't help you more-- activities, Pah! I never had activities when I was young, I worked and I worked hard. Your problem is you do too much for those kids and look where it got you."

Everybody Loves Raymond

It's gotten me a miserable turkey apparently.
My entire failed turkey can be blamed on the way I chose to raise my kids.
Such a ray of sunshine. So glad he's here. He may die in this decade so we all tolerate him.


People are buzzing past me like little garden bees, landing on pies and jiggley jello salads, some proclaiming that their cranberry sauce is the best anyone could ever hope for.



Side dishes people. Anyone can pull off a great side dish, but a whole, main course turkey?

Uncle Hee Hee comes into the kitchen for a drink. I love Uncle Hee Hee and tend to gravitate towards him at these family gatherings.
I show him my turkey. I know he will understand why I am wanting to crawl into my bed and live there for the rest of my time on Earth.
"Pull yourself up, girlie. I know people who aren't even lucky enough to have a turkey! My son has never had a turkey and he's nearly forty. He's gonna look back one day and be sorry for the decisions he made eating at fast-food places all of these years and here you are complaining because your turkey ain't perfect." He smiles and leaves with his lemonade.

Hmmm. Not quite the pep-talk I was expecting.

Feeling  more than a little emotionally depleted now, I brace myself for Auntie Looloo.

It's not enough. No one can really brace for Auntie L.

"Oh, yeah. I had turkeys like that and you know what? I got through them. AND I worked full time and never had the luxury of trying to perfect my turkey-- noSir-ee, I worked hard and I accepted what came my way".

Little Miss Sunshine photo

Strange. All of this empathy, support, turkey condolences aren't making me feel any better.

I'm hoping Aunt Sweet will arrive shortly because all I want is for her to come in and put her arm around me and say, "I know Sweetie, I know." That's all. I don't want her to compare my turkey to hers, or tell me how I could have done better-- or worse, how I should never expect better.
I just want her to say, "I understand. It stinks sometimes and you are not wrong for feeling that way".

In my self-pitying state I am acutely aware that I carry a little of each of these people in me. I can't seem to listen to someone without one-upping or trying to fix them. At least I hope there's less of Aunt Looloo than the others in me!

Truth is, I'm actually a good cook and I have one of the fattest, juiciest turkeys around, it's just that the way it's come out of the oven isn't at all how I envisioned it. It's not the turkey I dreamed of having.
Hopefully, I can get it back on track, but for now, I'll try to focus on the gravy:
This experience could just mold me into some future distraught daughter/daughter-in-law or granddaughter's Auntie Sweet...
when she's standing alone in her futuristic kitchen wondering, "This is it?" I'll give her a hug and say, "I know sweetie".

Taking Pleasure in Punishing My Kids

I'm a mean Mom.

I take away electronics.

I feel justified in doing so when said electronics seems to add to the antagonism and aggression that seems to run rampant in our home during down time.

I don't give a flying flip if kid did save up for a year just to buy his very own iPod Touch-- it's mine when you start biting everybody's head off.

This is what occurs after the initial shock (and withdrawal symptoms) subside...

Playing Wii Karaoke

After Wii Karaoke, some Wii fit on the board. See the two Wii controllers?

Maybe a little XBox action when that's over...Looks like Halo is the game in queue

XBox isn't complete without the Kinect...

Nobody make any sudden movements! That's a Shrink-ray gun by his feet!

Surely you know who this is?

Oh alright. Maybe this helps?

For Pete's sake, it's Simon Lappin!

Don't tell the kids that their sudden burst of creativity may have just nailed the lid shut on the electronic coffin.

Husbands Can Say Some Really Dumb Things

Tonight he is reclining on the sofa. Feeling a little bad about the big crack on his iPhone from today's drop in the driveway. Watching football.

I had cooked dinner, helped two small kids make a dessert. Cleaned up. Prepared our Family Home Evening. Loaded the dishwasher after dinner. Began finally sorting out the paper mountain we accumulated over December when I was too busy to sort mail and school papers coming in by the tons.

Feeling a little guilty (neglectful), thinking Husband might need my calming, comforting presence, I sit down on the love seat and look at him sympathetically as he strokes his phone.

"I need to go back on the Wii Fit, that was really great the other day",  he says with that dreamy look one gets after having a tropical holiday. "It's a really great workout, have you been on there lately?"




insert dramatic pause...


...you know, the one I should have taken...

before going into my tirade. (bless him, never saw any of this coming)

"Are you serious?! WHEN would I go on to the Wii? If I'm not cooking, cleaning, folding laundry or basically meeting everybody's needs, this TV is tuned into football or some ridiculous Disney Channel show that makes me want to gouge my eyes out and if the Wii is actually up and running, someone is playing FIFA!!"

quick breath... the kind you're trained to do as a singer... (bless him, never saw any of this coming)

"I don't ever have time to do anything like that and for the life of me, do NOT know how you fit it in this weekend while I was away! Housework around here is never done, the kids are always up to something..."


Somehow I don't think that's what he ever expected when he started that conversation. (bless him, never saw any of this coming) I think he may have even been holding onto some delusion of me patting his head saying, "Poor Little Bunny, you are putting on such a brave face speaking about workouts when your iPhone-obsessed heart is broken".

I'd love to say he won't bring it up again,

but he will.

Husbands can say some really dumb things sometimes.

Date Night Take Two

One night, before the Christmas visit from our oldest Son, we had mind-sucking aliens enter our house. Since all of our memories were erased (of many failed attempts for Walton-family reunions of the past) we foolishly began planning all of the fun things we would do as a family.

Aware that the oldest probably hadn't had any of his memories stolen, we bought tickets for events without asking him. Ok, we knew he'd grumble, but with a ticket in front of him, how much could he really object? famous last words

Dad, ever the one with impeccable timing, presented our plans to a son who just traveled all night long in a cramped airline seat and was now facing a 3-hour life-risking drive with his father.  He wasn't pleased.

"Why didn't anyone ask me if I wanted to do those things?"
"Because we knew you'd say no".

SO...

We dragged the entire bunch to London the see The Gruffalo. Son #1 made sure his feelings were known that we, as parents of multiple feral children, were incapable of herding our bunch through the tube systems of London and chose to do it himself causing everyone unnecessary stress.

The show was nice. The kids liked it. Oldest Son refused to talk to any of us for the entire tube ride back to the car. I think he liked the Gruffalo though... I didn't dare ask.

After that fun day out, we were grateful that we had fought the urge to spend a hefty sum to take us all to see the pantomime in Norwich.

 

Note 1:Pantomimes are a huge tradition during the Christmas and New Year period. In four years, we've never ventured out to see the "Dame" (man in drag) or to join in with the fun audience participation ("Oh no it isn't" "Oh yes it is!" and booing/hissing as the villain took the stage) because by the time we thought about it, the seats were booked.

Note 2: British people know how to plan holidays, booking a year in advance for trips or activities--we are slow-thinking Americans that can't make a decision on the day, much less a year in advance. 

Hubby LONGED for the opportunity to shout back at the actors, "It's behind you!" He nearly pouted when we crossed it off our "Things to torture oldest son with during the holidays" list.

The anniversary rolled around and the thought of watching half of a movie or eating pizza in a family- restaurant/cubicle was discouraging, so I have to admit I might have been a wee bit snarky as the Hubby was frantically coming up with ideas.

However,

when he announced that he had just purchased tickets to the Panto in Norwich, I was thrilled on several levels.

• 1. He did something spontaneous for the first time in 14 years. 
• 2. It was something we've never done before. 
• 3. He did something spontaneous for the first time in 14 years that I didn't have to nudge him into, or book it, or pay for it.

We grabbed our coats and off we went.

As I sat there guffawing hysterically (yes, I nearly snorted), I was thinking that I definitely have to recommend to all 6 of my readers: if you are ever in England, you MUST SEE A PANTOMIME. 

Now in retrospect, I'm not sure if that's wise. The humor comes from British politics, jabs at celebrities and local references (we REALLY enjoyed the Norwich City Football references, especially when they jeered at our football rivals, Ipswich Town).
One actor was wearing the bright yellow socks with green accents-- only a NCFC follower would even get that. Two actors are from popular nighttime soaps (remember how America was with Dallas or Dynasty?) whose celebrity status would be lost on a foreign visitor (you might catch on when the audience squeals as they appear on stage though).

Our good friends were so pleased that we enjoyed it since the Americans they took to a panto sat there looking like they were at a funeral.

I enjoyed our anniversary date SO much this year that we came straight home and booked this past friday to take the kids-- who loved it. Miss Ky couldn't quit talking about "the baddy who was good now" and A2 LOVED that kids his age were pulled up on stage. 

I only wish we had forced Son #1 to see it.

Maybe we could needle him to come again next year and partake in another family bonding experience... he's got my DNA, surely he got some of my bad memory as well.

I'm Twins!!

I've been a Gemini all of my life and I'm NOT changing. I refuse.

So ok, I don't rush out to read my horoscope and didn't plan my marriage according to the compatibility of our star signs (well not too much anyway), but I resent being told that I am now a Taurus because some moon and flighty planet decided to dance slightly differently.

Gemini's are two people. I can sweep my bipolar-like mood changes under a neat little "I was born under the Twins sign" rug. I can flit from one activity to another and when faced with accusations of ADD,  reply, "No, I'm a Gemini".

You can't beat having a Leo mate. I have no idea what this new guy, the Cancer I seem to have married will be like, but Gemini's aren't supposed to get along with Cancer.  Getting rid of a Cancerian (my word) in our life is like trying to get gum off the bottom of a shoe (read it in a book when I was younger, put down the rotten tomatoes). My husband will be STUCK to me now? And IF I'm really a Taurus, does Taurus like sticky, gummy husbands?

And my family? I have Aquariuses where I didn't before and Virgos where there were Libras.  It's just all wrong. If I had to move, why couldn't I have fallen under the new sign Ophiuchus?

If you don't know what I'm babbling about, check out Timesonline . What new sign do you fall under?




*I sincerely hope no Cancers were hurt at the time of this writing... especially since apparently I am married to one.

Scary Noises

I've just decided that nothing gets your heart pumping like the sound of a vacuum turning on in a room where you just left your 4 year-old doing crafts...

I think that's the quickest I have moved in years.

Date Night

Hubby and I NEVER go out. Ever.

I think I can count on one hand how many times we've gone somewhere, just he and I, in the last 10 years. With so few to choose from, I can remember our dates in vivid detail... they're never good.

Last year for our anniversary, we had two lovely people who wanted nothing more than to sit with our kids while we went to Norwich for a special evening...

"What do you want to do?"
"I dunno, what do you want to do?"
"Well, we could see a movie"
"yeah..."
"Or we could go out and eat..."
"Yeah, um, what movies are playing?"


You get the idea. Two communicationally challenged people attempting an evening. 

Last year we chose Sherlock Holmes. I've never been more disappointed in a movie. I mean, by the time we got our popcorn and such, the cinema was dark and we really had to struggle to find two seats together. People seemed irritated as we squeezed by-- holy cow folks, it's the first few minutes of a film, you'll be fine... but I was wrong!
The movie was instantly action-packed and didn't allow us to really get to know the characters. No development at all, so it was hard to know who to hate and who to cheer and we spent the first ten minutes trying to figure out the relationship between two main characters. Before you know it, the film wrapped up and we were left sitting there with mouths hanging open, "Huh?"

Yes. We had entered the wrong theatre and caught the last half of Sherlock Holmes.
It's how we roll.

So this year... free babysitting! Oldest son was home. The one who can't wait to see us all and then remembers just after his flight lands that he really doesn't like his siblings very much.... nevermind.
We didn't make plans. About 3 pm, oldest son asks what we're doing for our anniversary. He says he was pretty much counting on us going out.
Hubby and I look at each other with stunned expressions...

"What do you want to do?"
"I dunno, what do you want to do?"
"Well, we could see a movie"
"yeah..."
"We could go out and eat..."
"Is that REALLY all we can ever do together?!"

Hubby walks away, goes for the comforting purr of his mistress, the mac book.
Soon, I hear him on the phone negotiating...






To Be Continued...

I'm Having "A Change of Plans"

In support of Family Movie Night another giveaway!

I am so thrilled to have an opportunity to support anything that is family oriented, the folks over at Walmart and P&G can't get rid of me.
Remember "A Walk in My Shoes"?  
There's a new family movie airing today (Jan 8th) on Fox 8/7c. Change of Plans, starring Brooke White (from American Idol), Joe Flanigan, (Stargate Atlantis) and Phylicia Rashad (do you really NOT know?).

Here's how you line yourself up to win:

Comment,  telling me how awesome I am all about how you intend to tune in

or

"Like" Family Movie Night on Facebook (and you should leave me a comment saying that you did because I'm not psychic)

or

Blog about it

or

post a FB status about it

or

just go to the Family Movie Night page to check it out (and again, you should tell me because...).

The best thing? It's happening tonight, so there's no chance that you'll forget...

 

Fine print: Contest ends at 8/7c USA time (you know, just as you turn on the telly...). This giveaway is open to USA readers.

Behind the Scenes of a Peaceful Beach Photo

Everything is not as it appears... in fact, nothing is ever as it appears in our life.

 

You may need to click on the image to read it.

I have the house blissfully to myself and I've vowed not to spend it on the computer. I also vowed not to post before responding to the comments from the last few posts, but I didn't stick to that very well, did I?

I'm considering going comment-less until I catch up, any thoughts?

How do you keep up?

No Regrets

Last night, just before switching off the computer, I decided to put up a quick post with photos of my oldest son from this Christmas holiday here in England.

Only I didn't have any decent pictures of him.

The lighting in our house leaves something to be desired and for most of his stay, one or all of us have been in our pjs.

There are certainly no family portraits or even a family snapshot with all of us in it--ever. That was my one goal this Christmas.

There was one day when everyone felt well, but the littlest brother was at his friend's house for the day.
There was the trip to London to see a show, but the 2nd-oldest child stayed home with the flu.
Every day was bitterly cold or the thickest fog blanket. Fate was working against me.

As I sat staring at a blank blog post in the quiet of the night, I got really melancholy at the realization that I was out of time. Today would be his last day with us- his siblings had school and Dad was back at work, so there wouldn't be anymore opportunities to take a decent family photo.

Sleep works wonders and this morning, I was determined to have no regrets, regardless if it meant stressing myself out (trying to figure out how to juggle everyone, getting them all home before the 3.30 sunset). I worried about it all morning.  #1 Son and I did a quick trip to the seaside and shot some pictures of some nearby ruins, making it home by 1.00pm.

At 2.15 I headed out to begin the race against dusk...

and it began to tip down rain.

3.00, Husband headed straight home-- without passing Go to collect his $200.00.
3.25 I gathered the last child

3.40 We managed to have everyone in front of the house just as the light got difficult. We didn't worry about hair or whether our clothing had some uniformity. I told everyone NOT TO MOVE since I didn't want to have to resort to a flash.

Not bad for our very first full-family photo ever, huh? 

Look who moved. 

Classy all of the way. 

I should become a professional photographer specializing in family portraiture.