The Younger Generation

"Ooooh! That's SIC!!! You know Mom, 'sic' means cool. Not sick like you are sick." And to what was my enlightened eight year old referring???? Michael Jackson video. Thriller. Is this the true meaning of recycle? He also acknowledged that Sir Michael looked better back before he looked weird. How do you answer the question of an eight year old when asked why someone gets so much surgery? Does he keep me young, or enhance the gray hairs? It's a good thing he's cute. The eight year old that is......

The Price of Being a Mom

Yesterday, Andrew & I ran errands. How exciting for him. Barber shop, hardware store, post office, then BJ's (like Costco's but less pretentious). BJ's was a mad house. When I do make the pilgrimage, I normally go during the week in the evening. Much more civilised time to do bulk junque shopping. Not on a Saturday afternoon with a very active 8 year old.
Today, he went over to a friend's house to play. Thus.....
Going to BJ's on a Saturday afternoon: insanity
Going to BJ's on a Saturday with an 8 year old: complete insanity
Having your kid play at a friend's house for 3.5 hours on a Sunday: Priceless

What month is it?

Snow. Lots of it. Not enough to delay/close school or anything. Thankfully, after four continuous months - and a day or two of warm temps - the town & ground have it all under control. No lights in the office however..... Anyway, some parts of New Hampster have/will receive about 8 inches. We at the coast have received about 3. It's the wet sticky icky heavy to shovel kind. It's really pretty tho! :)

Brilliant

During a mad game of Apples to Apples Jr, the quote was:
"If I was a dork, I'd know more about computers."
Okaaaaay.......

Straight from the horses mouth

Hannah decided she wanted straighten my hair. She did a great job.

We picked up Andrew from school. He saw my hair and said that it looks like Hannah's. Hannah & I both said we like it, and it looks nice. Andrew said that I don't look like his mom, and anyway, my hair will get messy in bed. HUH???

To all of northern New England

Saw this on a friend's myspace page. Too perfect! :)

Andrew's Sick Day

Fevers come and go. Being 8 years old and having the talent to control said fever is incredible. Fever started Friday afternoon and continued until late Saturday afternoon. Then fever again Sunday afternoon until Monday morning after all phone calls and emails were sent to the necessary people. I'm working remotely so that I am able to bill a few hours for the day. Taking a break, I go downstairs to see how el sicko is doing.
Me, "Andrew, how are you? What may I bring you?"
Andrew, "Fine. Um. I think I could use some popcorn." (n.b. he's had a sore throat....)
Me, "You've already popped it."
Andrew, "Yes."
Me, "Did you leave the empty box in the pantry?"
Andrew, "Uh. Yeah. Wow! You know everything!!!"
Me, "Yes I do. I'm a Mom. It's a gift."

Life's too short...

...for many things.
Eating bad cheese.
Having flaky friends.
Making bad decisions.
Drinking bad wine.
Yes, a cliche, but oh so true. As my friend Jenny frequently blogs of Friday Wine Goodness, I listen to her because she is not flaky and loves good wine! :) Last night, as I was rummaging through my wine selection, I realised I should have replenished after the Uber Granny Nanny left. Meager offerings to say the least. Some how, a bottle of Pumpkin spice mead got in there (noticing it as being from a NH winery, I'm assuming I purchased said mystery). Being adventurous and needing wine, I chilled, opened, poured, sipped, gagged, and, yup, threw the rest of the bottle down the drain. Mead, while it just so happens to be a friend's last name (there are no such things as coincidences....), is also a honey wine. WAY too sweet. Maybe the pumpkin and associated spices would have been good during the winter holidays. Not so much on a sleeting March Friday night with a kid on the couch running a 102 fever.
Speaking of short. Spring forward tonight. Shortness of sleep..... On the bright side, sitter tonight so no shortness of fun with friends!! :)

Olfactory Welcome

After a long day, we walked in the door this evening to an aroma. A smell. A stench. One of the cats (I'm pretty sure I know which one) had crapped on the rug. Thankfully I saw this before anyone stepped in it and spread it around the house. Cleaned the litter boxes. One of the bags had a hole. Put more litter in the box, and the container of litter snagged my sweater. Life is good somewhere, just not here at the moment. I'd give up except my "Living Language" daily saying for the weekend was "Pourquoi renoncer a se battre?" Why give up fighting. Um. Didn't sign up for the fight in the first place? Don't like to fight? Someone else started it?

Whatevah.

The Perils of OCD

Ok, so self (and friends) diagnosed, yet it still can not be denied. Derek still hasn't shown up. I saved myself 30 bucks.

Happy snowy Marching lion folks.