Let me start off by saying I am sometimes over dramatic and I have been known to exaggerate some things when I get excited, or irritated, or just plain worked up about a situation. Like last week someone got shot at one of our favorite ice cream shops. I called Turbo and went off about this shooting and how crazy it was, just to mess up most of the facts and find out it was at a location I never knew existed. Details, Schmetails. I was concerned about the ice cream. Anyhoo...here's my post. Only feel free at anytime to substitute the title Infestation with Annoyance, 'cause I'm pretty sure it means the same thing.
Last summer we had a terrible problem with fruit flies. If you have never had this problem, you have no idea how awful it is.
For a handful of days I noticed the little buggers here and there throughout the house. I had no idea where they were coming from, and since there was not that many around, I figured it was some sort of fluke.
And then I found them. Down in the laundry room, a huge swarm (really, I'm not even exaggerating yet) coming from the laundry room garbage where Rex had placed a banana peel who knows how long ago, in the trash can that we empty only when it fills with dryer lint. Nice.
I set 'traps' since that's what you do to catch these things, and got rid of every trace within a few days.
That was last year.
This year it has started again. Someone picked a handful of blackberries from the garden that attracted the beasts. With the fruit sitting idle on the counter, they feasted on berries until I discovered them and destroyed them.
Then someone threw a banana peel on the bottom of the trash can. (Yes, the bottom, under the bag liner so it was there for a bit before I found it.) Oh, they love bananas. The horny little monsters had a field day on that until I sucked them all up in the vacuum, 'cause that's another way to kill them.
But before I could destroy them, they discovered this gold mine of junk under Lucy's highchair cushion. (And that wasn't even that bad because I know it gets nasty so I clean it all the time, but those darn things don't waste any time finding a new place to feast.) I scrubbed that and thought I was done.
Until I found them chillin' on my morning coffee, sitting neglected in the basement for a couple of hours while I ran some errands. Fiends!
So I am back to the traps. The vacuum is ready to strike at a moments notice. I am on the hunt. I have no idea when this will end, but it certainly will be my victory.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Chompers
Lucy's teeth are finally in.
She has waited, and waited, and waited some more. All the books and websites and doctors said at least one would be here by now. But they don't know Lucy.
They don't know that the single characteristic that defines her as my daughter (versus the bazillion that let you know she belongs to Turbo) is that she is stubborn and wants what she wants and does what she wants, especially when others tell her she should do differently.
It is a blessing and a curse to live like this. Stubborn and headstrong and smart and dedicated and driven by goals and whims and ideas that other people just do not understand.
But she will figure that out for herself. By doing stuff like this. By forcing us all to wait and wait and wait (and worry too about a life of kiddie dentures) until she and the rest of her body was ready for teeth. Now that she is ready, she will torture herself (and us) by growing them 2 at a time to prove not only can she do it, but she can do it her own way.
To hell with the way others grow teeth, she will do it 2 at a time and 4 months late. For she is Lucy E, and truly her mother's daughter.
She has waited, and waited, and waited some more. All the books and websites and doctors said at least one would be here by now. But they don't know Lucy.
They don't know that the single characteristic that defines her as my daughter (versus the bazillion that let you know she belongs to Turbo) is that she is stubborn and wants what she wants and does what she wants, especially when others tell her she should do differently.
It is a blessing and a curse to live like this. Stubborn and headstrong and smart and dedicated and driven by goals and whims and ideas that other people just do not understand.
But she will figure that out for herself. By doing stuff like this. By forcing us all to wait and wait and wait (and worry too about a life of kiddie dentures) until she and the rest of her body was ready for teeth. Now that she is ready, she will torture herself (and us) by growing them 2 at a time to prove not only can she do it, but she can do it her own way.
To hell with the way others grow teeth, she will do it 2 at a time and 4 months late. For she is Lucy E, and truly her mother's daughter.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Das ist GERMANFEST
Mein familie von das boot zu das beir ... or something like that.
An annual tradition, the 25 cent foot massager.
This year they had an unbelievable air showfree the purchase of a lot of beer!
One happy LuLu.
Brats and Wieners and Schnitzel, oh my.
Nate holding Lucy, 'cause my hands were full.
Rex being Rex...
...while Turbo & I discuss our wonderful insurance coverage.
Recent grads, enjoying life after college. 
Harry, takin' 'er easy.
Lucy trying to do shots with Christy.
Ice Cream...Yum...
Ice Cream..Messy...
One Way Sky Glide. (thanks again Megan!)
Look mom, no hands!
Still happy LuLu.
Father-Daughter bonding the way it should be,with a beer and a boot and a shot glass and a stein.
Probably don't need to say we were all ready to
go home right after this pic was taken.
(...more photos are sure to roll in soon,
including Rex's outfit and Santa on holiday...)
Probably don't need to say we were all ready to
go home right after this pic was taken.
(...more photos are sure to roll in soon,
including Rex's outfit and Santa on holiday...)
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Christmas in July
I go to the library every few weeks and get a handful of kids books, a stack of sewing and knitting books, maybe a business book or two (ya know, to try to figure out what in the world I am doing to myself).
I pour over my library books and take notes on the patterns. I try some patterns, love some, hate some, then I decide if the book is 'purchasable' by my standards.
When I find a book worthy of buying, I add it to a list I've compiled of all of the titles I need to take to Borders/Amazon. It's a pretty long list. A terrifying list. An embarrassing list.
I look at this list of titles and think 'oh what I would give to have enough money in my pocket to buy them all'. To go to Borders and lay my stack on the counter and say 'here, I want these... yes, all of them... no, I am not nuts, nor lonely, nor strange... ok, fine, a little strange'.
But at $20-$30 each, I'm not anywhere near this dream. I could chip away at them, which I do, but again, the list is long and as soon as I buy one I replace it with another library find and I am no better off. It's a perpetual dilemma. The better I get at sewing/knitting, the more books I find 'worthy', the longer my list. Yada, yada, yada.
So here is my thing. I don't see any change in this problematic behavior of mine. And there will come a time (say in December) when my parents or my grandparents or my aunts & uncles & cousins & in-laws will come to me and say 'is there anything you want?' and I will say no, because I always do, because I don't need anything and I can never think of anything, because I hate saying 'why yes, I want a vacation near a beach where I can read a book and get a golden tan and hire a hottie to refill my cocktails while I wear a bikini and show off my tight buns and I brag about getting my boobs back, is that going over our spending limit?'. And when this happens, when I say no, I want someone to call me a liar. I want someone to tell me they remember some rant and rave way back in July where I complained about my 'book list'.
Because I will forget. Not that I will forget that I want them, but I won't think to ask for them because I will be busy shopping or baking cookies or corralling the kids or policing Turbo while he enjoys his 'holiday spirits'. Because I have a lot going on and I forget things like this all of the time and I can hardly remember what my kids names are or where I live, much less what in the world I want for Christmas.
In 6 months.
I pour over my library books and take notes on the patterns. I try some patterns, love some, hate some, then I decide if the book is 'purchasable' by my standards.
When I find a book worthy of buying, I add it to a list I've compiled of all of the titles I need to take to Borders/Amazon. It's a pretty long list. A terrifying list. An embarrassing list.
I look at this list of titles and think 'oh what I would give to have enough money in my pocket to buy them all'. To go to Borders and lay my stack on the counter and say 'here, I want these... yes, all of them... no, I am not nuts, nor lonely, nor strange... ok, fine, a little strange'.
But at $20-$30 each, I'm not anywhere near this dream. I could chip away at them, which I do, but again, the list is long and as soon as I buy one I replace it with another library find and I am no better off. It's a perpetual dilemma. The better I get at sewing/knitting, the more books I find 'worthy', the longer my list. Yada, yada, yada.
So here is my thing. I don't see any change in this problematic behavior of mine. And there will come a time (say in December) when my parents or my grandparents or my aunts & uncles & cousins & in-laws will come to me and say 'is there anything you want?' and I will say no, because I always do, because I don't need anything and I can never think of anything, because I hate saying 'why yes, I want a vacation near a beach where I can read a book and get a golden tan and hire a hottie to refill my cocktails while I wear a bikini and show off my tight buns and I brag about getting my boobs back, is that going over our spending limit?'. And when this happens, when I say no, I want someone to call me a liar. I want someone to tell me they remember some rant and rave way back in July where I complained about my 'book list'.
Because I will forget. Not that I will forget that I want them, but I won't think to ask for them because I will be busy shopping or baking cookies or corralling the kids or policing Turbo while he enjoys his 'holiday spirits'. Because I have a lot going on and I forget things like this all of the time and I can hardly remember what my kids names are or where I live, much less what in the world I want for Christmas.
In 6 months.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
The Overnight Guest
We had an overnight guest this past weekend. A 4 year old friend of Rex's. His parents are long time friends of ours and we offered to take him while they enjoyed themselves at a wedding.
Within 10 minutes (his dad was still here hanging out with Turbo) I was feeling great sympathy for any person with twins or more than 3 children. I think the energy level in our house was immediately multiplied by 1000 and it seemed there were crazy children everywhere I turned. Really, bona fide kiddie lunatics.
It was obvious I needed a plan to get through the weekend with my kids plus OG. But I didn't have one and I had to improvise.
So I put them in bathing suits and threw them outside.
They came back in 20 minutes later, hungry.
So I made snacks. And I learned that OG hates food. All food, except apples. He didn't want the burgers he asked Turbo for on Wednesday, didn't like strawberries even though I saw him eating them by the handful at his house the week before, hates cheese and crackers. I eventually got him to eat bananas and scrambled eggs and toast. Success.
Then they played inside and got bored even quicker.
So we made mozzarella sticks. Which OG hates. But he did like to 'paint' the wrappers and roll them in crumbs. Success.
Then they played the Wii and the batteries died because they weren't charged last time.
So we drew pictures on t-shirts with a bleach pen. Rex did a skeleton, OG did a car. Success.
Then they played outside and it started to rain.
So we came in and watched some SpongeBob. And they had a pillow fight with the huge pillows I made and OG asked if he could have one, but I said no and offered to make him his own as long as he stuffed it himself. He was happy to pick out the fabric and stuff his new pillow. Success.
Then more friends came over and we had dinner (OG ate strawberries by the handful again) and a bonfire and smores and we played outside until everyone was tired and dirty.
So we came inside, took showers, got on pj's, made popcorn, watched Cars, and went to sleep. Success.
The next morning we made blueberry pancakes and sausage. OG ate his entire plate. Success.
Then Rex & OG helped me make chocolate chip cookies. Success.
Then we played outside. Success.
Then his mom came to get him. And I laughed with her about all of the food he hates, and the pillow and the t-shirt and the cookies and all the stuff we did so I didn't go nuts. And I told her OG was missing a pair of underwear that I couldn't find anywhere, but would return when they resurfaced.
So they got all of his stuff together and OG went to the bathroom before the ride home. But he couldn't get his pants back on because he was wearing two pairs of underwear and his jeans didn't fit over them very well.
And his mom and I laughed and laughed and laughed. And she said thanks and I told her it was lots of fun and OG is welcome anytime and the entire weekend was a great success.
'Cause it was.
Within 10 minutes (his dad was still here hanging out with Turbo) I was feeling great sympathy for any person with twins or more than 3 children. I think the energy level in our house was immediately multiplied by 1000 and it seemed there were crazy children everywhere I turned. Really, bona fide kiddie lunatics.
It was obvious I needed a plan to get through the weekend with my kids plus OG. But I didn't have one and I had to improvise.
So I put them in bathing suits and threw them outside.
They came back in 20 minutes later, hungry.
So I made snacks. And I learned that OG hates food. All food, except apples. He didn't want the burgers he asked Turbo for on Wednesday, didn't like strawberries even though I saw him eating them by the handful at his house the week before, hates cheese and crackers. I eventually got him to eat bananas and scrambled eggs and toast. Success.
Then they played inside and got bored even quicker.
So we made mozzarella sticks. Which OG hates. But he did like to 'paint' the wrappers and roll them in crumbs. Success.
Then they played the Wii and the batteries died because they weren't charged last time.
So we drew pictures on t-shirts with a bleach pen. Rex did a skeleton, OG did a car. Success.
Then they played outside and it started to rain.
So we came in and watched some SpongeBob. And they had a pillow fight with the huge pillows I made and OG asked if he could have one, but I said no and offered to make him his own as long as he stuffed it himself. He was happy to pick out the fabric and stuff his new pillow. Success.
Then more friends came over and we had dinner (OG ate strawberries by the handful again) and a bonfire and smores and we played outside until everyone was tired and dirty.
So we came inside, took showers, got on pj's, made popcorn, watched Cars, and went to sleep. Success.
The next morning we made blueberry pancakes and sausage. OG ate his entire plate. Success.
Then Rex & OG helped me make chocolate chip cookies. Success.
Then we played outside. Success.
Then his mom came to get him. And I laughed with her about all of the food he hates, and the pillow and the t-shirt and the cookies and all the stuff we did so I didn't go nuts. And I told her OG was missing a pair of underwear that I couldn't find anywhere, but would return when they resurfaced.
So they got all of his stuff together and OG went to the bathroom before the ride home. But he couldn't get his pants back on because he was wearing two pairs of underwear and his jeans didn't fit over them very well.
And his mom and I laughed and laughed and laughed. And she said thanks and I told her it was lots of fun and OG is welcome anytime and the entire weekend was a great success.
'Cause it was.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Spring Cleaning...Still
In case you're wondering where in the heck I have been lately, have no fear. I am at home. Cleaning. Still.
I've spent the last few days cleaning out closets, rearranging bedrooms, sorting through toys. I still have to paint, want to sew some new curtains, need to get plans for a lego table I promised the boys we'd make.
Unfortunately, for me the cleaning never stops. It's always laundry or dishes or vacuuming. On really good days it's closets and toys too. It is a truly unglamorous and grueling job, but a necessary one all the same. And the quicker I get through it, the more time I have for blogging and sewing and playing outside. You know, all of that fun stuff that is so much better when you get to relax in a clean house afterward.
I've spent the last few days cleaning out closets, rearranging bedrooms, sorting through toys. I still have to paint, want to sew some new curtains, need to get plans for a lego table I promised the boys we'd make.
Unfortunately, for me the cleaning never stops. It's always laundry or dishes or vacuuming. On really good days it's closets and toys too. It is a truly unglamorous and grueling job, but a necessary one all the same. And the quicker I get through it, the more time I have for blogging and sewing and playing outside. You know, all of that fun stuff that is so much better when you get to relax in a clean house afterward.
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