did you know it’s possible for a normally responsible, ‘have to be early everywhere’ type woman to miss 3 flights in 3 days? yep. it is.
did you know it is entirely possible for a 3 yr old to accidentally twinkle in the mouth of a 4 yr old, from a distance of 3 feet?
did you know that if that happens, the 4 yr old will be exceptionally, uncharacteristically, motivated to do a very thorough job with toothbrushing?
that’s the silver lining i decided to cling to, rather than gag over the circumstance.
did you know that if i should ever disappear off the pyanet, i can tell you right now where to look. Thanksgiving Point, Utah.
my personal theory is that it was named that because you’re there for less than five minutes before whispering to yourself, “OH THANK YOU, GOD, I AM HERE.” (Thus, you’ve come to a personal point of thanksgiving, no matter what time of year it is.) Muscles relax, happy sighing occurs.
did you know it’s possible for a well intentioned, radio public service message to CAUSE an accident? it spoke of how it is not safe to place hands at positions ’10′ and ’2′ as this could interfere with airbag deployment. also, the ad described how to position the steering wheel at your chest and not your chin, so the angle of the airbag wouldn’t cause injuries. i was driving through a parking lot, bizarrely enthralled by this ad, and scrutinizing my steering wheel angle and hand placement when i hopped a curb and mowed down a medium sized red tip photinia. because there were no children present, and the shrub seemed fine, i drove off giggling at the irony. no airbag was deployed, of course. but if it HAD – i would have been SO ready.
perhaps considering that this short post confesses i missed 3 flights, somehow managed to let one kid provide an unwanted homemade beverage to another kid, and had a totally avoidable car ‘incident’, i should adjust my self image of ‘normally responsible.’
which just brings me back to an earlier point: if i ever go totally irresponsible, just check in utah.
Random Number Picker Type Site selected Amy N. as the winner for this month’s Club 17. Yea, Amy!
I’m falling asleep as I type. There are reasons. It’s not even 9 o’clock. But I’m too tired to list them in an entertaining way, so I won’t bother.
Have a great weekend! I’ll be in Utah, but I’ll write more when I get back.
The other day in the car I sneezed. The appropriate, if not predictable, response would be ‘bless you.’ But Caden-4yr said, “Mom. Why do you sneeze…. differently… than all hoomins… on the pyanet?”
I love this question. It’s got it all. Caden-4yr’s own special vocabulary, and a brilliant use of an adverb.
Hoomins is Caden-4yr’s way of pronouncing the word ‘humans.’ Which he uses often – whereas most people might just say, well, ‘people.’ And pyanet is ‘planet.’
So if you follow this translation, you already know Caden-4yr was asking me why I sneeze differently from all humans on the planet.
(And i do NOT, I’ll have you know. But that isn’t the point.)
I told Caden-4yr as much, and he thought about it. Then he said, “Oh. Well. Why do you sneeze differently than all BOYS?”
Again with the adverb. And a peek at Caden-4yr’s logic. Which translates loosely to: Seriously, Mom? That sneeze is human? Oh. Well then it must be one of those girl things I don’t understand.
And I tell you this story now, because it’s the 17th.
Time for a ‘girl thing!’
If you’ll do a monthly self breast exam and leave a comment on this post saying you did, you’ll be eligible for a prize.*
If you’d like a button for your blog, reminding your readers to join you in this on the 17th of every month, then click riiiight here. And if you have questions on why we do this, how, or why I care, click that same link.
And remember that if you don’t usually check the comment sections on blogs, make an exception. Each month, this particular post always attracts a fascinating collection of comments.
Go BSE, y’all!
*I do prizes VERY well, if I do say so myself.
no really! It’s one of THOSE days. Not in a bad way. Not in a ‘counting the hours until naptime’ kind of day. it’s one of those ‘i am SO honored to have this mothering gig, and smart enough to realize it today’ kind of day.
Ethan-8yr just gave me a hug and smiled and said, “Mmmm. You smell just like syrup. In a good way!” I hate syrup, and the stickiness it creates, which is why he tacked on the disclaimer. And he has been creating high quality paper airplanes for his little brothers ever since the Syrup Hug.
Seth-2yr is still looking down my shirt and asking if i have a ‘beebee’ [baby] in there. This query usually leads me to question all sorts of things, including what i last ate and if I’m retaining water, but not today. When I told him that no, there was not a beebee in there, Seth-2yr pointed to himself. He smiled with all his dimples, and said, “Me. Me a beebee. You a momMAY, and me a beebee.” Then he hugged me, and inhaled deeply, just as he’d seen Ethan-8yr do.
I have no idea why I smell like pancake syrup. In a good way. Or any way at all.
Three little boys are playing with paper airplanes, and I’m just happy to be here with them. It’s one of THOSE days.
I will see LaLa TOMORROW. Yea!
The stupid windchime died within 24 hours of my writing of it. Yea! (no i do NOT think that the neighbors might have read that post and taken it down. I think they just became acquainted with the true nature of West Texas wind.)
Two little boys are asleep. Naps! YEA!!!
Mike and I watched the vice presidential debate last night. If y’all did, maybe your conversations were like ours.
One of us would say, “Nope, not right. That’s not true. It was actually [insert corrected fact]. ” Then a few minutes later the other candidate would get a similar comment. And on and on. (We are dreadfully boring, I know.)
But Mike didn’t switch this OFF when the debate ended. Marie Osmond came on, touting Weight Watchers or Nutri System or something and said something Mike didn’t think was entirely accurate. Which he pointed out. Actually no. It was even stranger than that.
She did a tiny little dance move and said it was from 20 years ago, and he thought it should have been 30 years.
I didn’t say anything. I did not care.
So he restated it, in a different way.
And then again.
Until finally I turned around and said, “MIKE! It’s a DIET commercial and that’s MARIE OSMOND. Turn off your fact checker!”
And then he laughed at himself and took my advice. Which was good, because then I could never watch television with him again.
You might think he’d be more sensitive to misstated facts on television, this week in particular. Mike is the financial analyst for one of the local television stations, and he’s constantly on the air now that the economy is always the lead story.
NoooOOOOooo, Marie Osmond, so watchit, girl. Dance eras, diet claims, and political facts are all subject to intense, ridiculously detailed scrutinization.