As I sit here this evening avoiding household chores and generally wasting time, I have come face to face with a most gripping situation. A situation so dire, my final decision will involve a tremendous amount of resolve and commitment.
Do I continue to invest my time, energy and emotions weekly to American Idol now that the four judges have put TATIANA DEL TORO into the top 36?? Seriously Simon, Randy, Paula, and Kara? SERIOUSLY?!?!?!
Many American Idol sins have been committed in the past, but most can be forgiven. Sanjaya. Amanda Whats-her-name from Season 7. Sanjaya's hair.
But THIS? Cannot be easily overlooked. That girl is certifiable.
But can I NOT watch? It's a quandry. And the verdict is still out.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Emergency Preparedness
You will all be happy to know that J, the angels, and I did NOT blow away in the storm that blew through our town last night. We almost had a limb come through our front window, but, hey, it's a rental!
J and I were about 2/3 of the way through our DVR'd version of AI last night, blissfully oblvious to the mounting storm outside, when gale force winds began blowing through our neighborhood. 80+ mph winds. No joke.
Between the 2 of us, we decided it would be a GREAT idea to pause AI (thank you, DVR!) and find out exactly what kind of weather we should be concerned about. If I'm being honest, there's not much weather that frightens me worse that a tornado. Or even the thought of a tornado. A tornado watch will keep my eyes glued to The Weather Channel until it passes. Hurricanes? After growing up in Houston, I can live with them. Tornadoes? Too unpredictable for this Type-A"ish" personality.
So J. opened the front door- which is EXACTLY what you should ALWAYS do in the midst of gale force winds. Who doesn't need a little extra fresh air gusting through the house like a typhoon?- and the wind just wasn't "right." So we rounded up all the children to cozy up with some blankets and pillows. And nothing else but my cell phone. In the bathroom.
Thankfully, I just cleaned the bathroom the day before b/c the thought of pillows and blankets on the bathroom floor and then back into beds kind of gives me hives just thinking about it.
Cade was about to have a panic attack and kept asking if we were going to have a "twister." Micah, on the other hand, Lord help us if an emergency ever strikes while he's sleeping. Jason was shouting at him loud enough to wake the dead, with no response. J. finally got him lucid enough to stumble into the bathroom where he promptly fell asleep again.
J. kept an eye on the news and after about 10 minutes, gave us the all-clear that the tornadoes were north of us, headed northeast. Whew! Well, for us at least. I sent the kiddos back to bed, and finished up AI. We had to turn it up pretty loud to hear the TV over the hail that set in for awhile. But we were glad the storm passed quickly.
This morning, Cade was still talking about "twisters" and Micah was wondering why we had so many limbs down in our yard. And I learned that it's probably a good idea to keep a small emergency kit with a flashlight or 2 under the bathroom sink.
J and I were about 2/3 of the way through our DVR'd version of AI last night, blissfully oblvious to the mounting storm outside, when gale force winds began blowing through our neighborhood. 80+ mph winds. No joke.
Between the 2 of us, we decided it would be a GREAT idea to pause AI (thank you, DVR!) and find out exactly what kind of weather we should be concerned about. If I'm being honest, there's not much weather that frightens me worse that a tornado. Or even the thought of a tornado. A tornado watch will keep my eyes glued to The Weather Channel until it passes. Hurricanes? After growing up in Houston, I can live with them. Tornadoes? Too unpredictable for this Type-A"ish" personality.
So J. opened the front door- which is EXACTLY what you should ALWAYS do in the midst of gale force winds. Who doesn't need a little extra fresh air gusting through the house like a typhoon?- and the wind just wasn't "right." So we rounded up all the children to cozy up with some blankets and pillows. And nothing else but my cell phone. In the bathroom.
Thankfully, I just cleaned the bathroom the day before b/c the thought of pillows and blankets on the bathroom floor and then back into beds kind of gives me hives just thinking about it.
Cade was about to have a panic attack and kept asking if we were going to have a "twister." Micah, on the other hand, Lord help us if an emergency ever strikes while he's sleeping. Jason was shouting at him loud enough to wake the dead, with no response. J. finally got him lucid enough to stumble into the bathroom where he promptly fell asleep again.
J. kept an eye on the news and after about 10 minutes, gave us the all-clear that the tornadoes were north of us, headed northeast. Whew! Well, for us at least. I sent the kiddos back to bed, and finished up AI. We had to turn it up pretty loud to hear the TV over the hail that set in for awhile. But we were glad the storm passed quickly.
This morning, Cade was still talking about "twisters" and Micah was wondering why we had so many limbs down in our yard. And I learned that it's probably a good idea to keep a small emergency kit with a flashlight or 2 under the bathroom sink.
Monday, February 9, 2009
It happens
Is it ever OK to wipe your child's hand with a Clorox disinfecting wipe (bleach-free)? My answer is a resounding YES.
I know they're meant for sanitizing surfaces and might be a little abrasive to one's delicate skin, but trust me- this was one surface that needed sanitizing. Because sometimes "it" happens. And when "it" happens, desperate times call for very desperate measures. Especially when "it's" on your child's hand. And the only thing you have within arm's reach that will do "it" and justice is a Clorox wipe. All the TP in the world wasn't going to work for us last night.
Don't judge me. I put her in the tub immediately after sanitization. And she didn't appear to be any worse for the wear when she was dressed in her bum-ruffle PJs and told me, "I wan 'nuggle." Your heart would have to be made of ice to resist that! So I held her until she fell asleep, with her pudgy germ-free hands clutching her blankie.
***
Continuing on my fake quest to become Martha Stewart, I made "homemade" waffles for breakfast this morning. Using Bisquick. Hey, it's a step in the right direction.
To reiterate that I do not have a reputation for my culinary prowess, Micah incredulously asked "You're making HOME.MADE waffles?!?!" With extra emphasis on the "home" and "made" that typing simply can't convey. The waffles he's used to are of the Eggo variety.
I may have to continue preparing HOME.MADE waffles for breakfast because apparently HOME.MADE waffles invoke a spirit of peace and goodwill between 2 brothers who previously could not put on their respective school clothes without arguing. Micah graciously allowed Cade to sit in "his" (Micah's self-proclaimed) seat for breakfast and no one complained that one brother got the "real" (plastic) plate while the other used the last paper plate. I'm willing to bet Martha would never serve on paper or plastic! But Rome wasn't built in a day, either!
I know they're meant for sanitizing surfaces and might be a little abrasive to one's delicate skin, but trust me- this was one surface that needed sanitizing. Because sometimes "it" happens. And when "it" happens, desperate times call for very desperate measures. Especially when "it's" on your child's hand. And the only thing you have within arm's reach that will do "it" and justice is a Clorox wipe. All the TP in the world wasn't going to work for us last night.
Don't judge me. I put her in the tub immediately after sanitization. And she didn't appear to be any worse for the wear when she was dressed in her bum-ruffle PJs and told me, "I wan 'nuggle." Your heart would have to be made of ice to resist that! So I held her until she fell asleep, with her pudgy germ-free hands clutching her blankie.
***
Continuing on my fake quest to become Martha Stewart, I made "homemade" waffles for breakfast this morning. Using Bisquick. Hey, it's a step in the right direction.
To reiterate that I do not have a reputation for my culinary prowess, Micah incredulously asked "You're making HOME.MADE waffles?!?!" With extra emphasis on the "home" and "made" that typing simply can't convey. The waffles he's used to are of the Eggo variety.
I may have to continue preparing HOME.MADE waffles for breakfast because apparently HOME.MADE waffles invoke a spirit of peace and goodwill between 2 brothers who previously could not put on their respective school clothes without arguing. Micah graciously allowed Cade to sit in "his" (Micah's self-proclaimed) seat for breakfast and no one complained that one brother got the "real" (plastic) plate while the other used the last paper plate. I'm willing to bet Martha would never serve on paper or plastic! But Rome wasn't built in a day, either!
I may end up with my name on a line of linens at the discount store
This blog is all about honesty, y'all and I have to be honest- I'm on my way to becoming Martha Stewart! Without all the legal infractions, of course.
It may be a teeny bit of a stretch to claim to be achieving the domestic godessness of Marty (that's what I call her- we're BFFs) because I still don't know how to zest a lemon or fold a fitted sheet properly.
But this weekend? I roasted a chicken in the crockpot and then used the bones to make HOMEMADE CHICKEN STOCK. After that, since the crockpot and I were getting to be so buddy-buddy and sharing all our deepest secrets with one another, I used my crockpot again to make HOMEMADE APPLESAUCE. And it was DELISH!
But then J. said "Depart foul spirit of Martha Stewart, in the name of Jay-eee-zuhs!" and I was exorcised right then and there. Because after the chicken stock and the applesuce experiment, I caught up on DVR'ed shows and then went to bed, leaving the kitchen in shambles, 5 or 6 (maybe more!) loads of clean laundry unfolded and innumerable other chores unaccomplished.
Domesticity is exhausting.
It may be a teeny bit of a stretch to claim to be achieving the domestic godessness of Marty (that's what I call her- we're BFFs) because I still don't know how to zest a lemon or fold a fitted sheet properly.
But this weekend? I roasted a chicken in the crockpot and then used the bones to make HOMEMADE CHICKEN STOCK. After that, since the crockpot and I were getting to be so buddy-buddy and sharing all our deepest secrets with one another, I used my crockpot again to make HOMEMADE APPLESAUCE. And it was DELISH!
But then J. said "Depart foul spirit of Martha Stewart, in the name of Jay-eee-zuhs!" and I was exorcised right then and there. Because after the chicken stock and the applesuce experiment, I caught up on DVR'ed shows and then went to bed, leaving the kitchen in shambles, 5 or 6 (maybe more!) loads of clean laundry unfolded and innumerable other chores unaccomplished.
Domesticity is exhausting.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
At least I (sort of) didn't pick the crummy movie this time
Last night was pretty laid back here in the Sturghouse, so J and I decided to rent a movie AND a Wii game. Par-TAY!
When we got our Wii, we joked that we can't really afford to buy any games for it.
It's funny because it's true.
And now we know that we can't afford to RENT them either! Dang, those things are NOT cheap. Or maybe I am. Either way, that little sucker cost 8 bucks ("Don't say 'bucks.' It's not ladylike." -Michael Scott) AND we have to return it.
After "Micah" played his Wii game (Ratatouille- and I use air quotes b/c I think J. is really the one who played it under the guise of "helping Micah learn") the little angels went to bed and J. and I watched The Happening, which is the latest M. Night Shyamalan flick.
And yes, I realize it came out like years ago or something, but I never claimed to be cinematic connoisseur (I had to look up how to spell that).
I think I've mentioned before that I'm challenged in the area of movie selection. Cinematically challenged? I always pick a total sleeper or otherwise craptastic movie.
But it wasn't completely me this time. See, a few hours earlier, I was sitting in the hoopty mini-van with our 2 youngest angels, rather than dragging all 3 kiddos into the movie store where their 6 little grabby mittens suddenly seem to turn into 6,000, and J. called me to see if I was down with renting The Happening.
Let the record show that, although I wanted to see the movie (red flag alert right there), I warned him that I had heard it was kind of stupid and we might be disappointed. However, we decided to make that determination for ourselves.
And The Happening met our sub-standard expectations. In that it was a sub-standard movie.
**Spoiler alert!! If you think you may fail to heed my warning and rent this show anyhow, don't read further!**
Basically, the plants and trees get all their collective undies in a bundle because of the poor way they are being treated by humankind and start poisoning the air and it makes all who breathe it want to commit suicide. Seriously? The plants are mad? I'm no ecologist, but give me a freakin' break. Seriously.
Clearly sci-fi is NOT my genre.
But my point is that the main actor is Mark Wahlburg AKA Marky Mark (minus the Funky Bunch). About halfway through the movie, J. reminded me of the SNL skit "Mark Wahlberg Talks to Animals" starring Andy Samberg as Marky Mark. We found it on the internets pretty quickly and I'll be darned if Marky Mark didn't sound JUST LIKE THAT throughout the whole movie. It might have ruined the rest of the show for me if 1) the movie had actually been any good to start with or 2) it wasn't so stinkin' funny.
So tonight, I leave you with "Mark Wahlberg Talk to Animals."
Say hi to your mother for me!
When we got our Wii, we joked that we can't really afford to buy any games for it.
It's funny because it's true.
And now we know that we can't afford to RENT them either! Dang, those things are NOT cheap. Or maybe I am. Either way, that little sucker cost 8 bucks ("Don't say 'bucks.' It's not ladylike." -Michael Scott) AND we have to return it.
After "Micah" played his Wii game (Ratatouille- and I use air quotes b/c I think J. is really the one who played it under the guise of "helping Micah learn") the little angels went to bed and J. and I watched The Happening, which is the latest M. Night Shyamalan flick.
And yes, I realize it came out like years ago or something, but I never claimed to be cinematic connoisseur (I had to look up how to spell that).
I think I've mentioned before that I'm challenged in the area of movie selection. Cinematically challenged? I always pick a total sleeper or otherwise craptastic movie.
But it wasn't completely me this time. See, a few hours earlier, I was sitting in the hoopty mini-van with our 2 youngest angels, rather than dragging all 3 kiddos into the movie store where their 6 little grabby mittens suddenly seem to turn into 6,000, and J. called me to see if I was down with renting The Happening.
Let the record show that, although I wanted to see the movie (red flag alert right there), I warned him that I had heard it was kind of stupid and we might be disappointed. However, we decided to make that determination for ourselves.
And The Happening met our sub-standard expectations. In that it was a sub-standard movie.
**Spoiler alert!! If you think you may fail to heed my warning and rent this show anyhow, don't read further!**
Basically, the plants and trees get all their collective undies in a bundle because of the poor way they are being treated by humankind and start poisoning the air and it makes all who breathe it want to commit suicide. Seriously? The plants are mad? I'm no ecologist, but give me a freakin' break. Seriously.
Clearly sci-fi is NOT my genre.
But my point is that the main actor is Mark Wahlburg AKA Marky Mark (minus the Funky Bunch). About halfway through the movie, J. reminded me of the SNL skit "Mark Wahlberg Talks to Animals" starring Andy Samberg as Marky Mark. We found it on the internets pretty quickly and I'll be darned if Marky Mark didn't sound JUST LIKE THAT throughout the whole movie. It might have ruined the rest of the show for me if 1) the movie had actually been any good to start with or 2) it wasn't so stinkin' funny.
So tonight, I leave you with "Mark Wahlberg Talk to Animals."
Say hi to your mother for me!
Thursday, February 5, 2009
A journey to Mecca... I mean, Ikea
Oh how I have been jonesing for a trip to Ikea since, well, since the last time I walked out of Ikea back in July of '08. Yeah, that was just a few months ago, but when you say a month and then add "of" and the last 2 digits of the year, it sounds like a really long time.
I tried to convince Jason to take me a couple of weekends ago. By "take me" I mean load up all the kids and let's go together because I knew there was no way he was going to let me be gone alone for half a day after he got up at dark:thirty and then slung coffee for a full 8 hours. I'm sure he would have been pleased as punch for me to take all of the little angels with me and go by myself, but there was less than a snowball's chance in hell of that happening.
Turns out, he didn't feel like going that day, with all the early rising and coffee laboring he endured that particular morning. But since he was off last Saturday AND I indulged him by not complaining when he said he wanted to spend most of the morning and a better part of the afternoon fishing with his buddy, he agreed to go that afternoon.
And what an arduous journey it was. "Arduous" is never a word I want to equate with a trip to Ikea again. It's like saying "disgusting birthday cake." Birthday cake should never ever be anything but fluffy, sweet and delicious (and preferably chocolate), just as a trip to Ikea should be fun and carefree, like white fluffy clouds. But arduous...never good.
For starters, Missy, who is pretty much completely potty-trained, Praise Jesus, was having some "difficulties." Let's just say that the first leg of the trip should have been a 30 minute trip south, but it took almost an hour because we had to make 2 pit stops for her to just go in and sit. And sit. And sit.
We finally arrived a bit later than originally intended and to my delight I was able to check the boys into "Smaland" or whatever the Swedish word is for the place where little people can play while their parents shop in relative peace for exactly ONE hour. It only took about half an hour to get them set up and checked in, so I took care of this while J. took Missy to the restroom. Again.
We got about halfway around Ikea, to probably the farthest point one could be from the restroom, when Missy decided, with great urgency, that she needed to go yet again. Lord, help me. I took her, she did some bidness, and then... the horror. I flushed the potty and too promptly squatted down to help Missy with the pulling up of the pants. Except that as the toilet was flushing I had unwittingly put my face even with the bowl and TOILET WATER SPLASHED OUT AND LANDED RIGHT.ON.MY.LIP. Pardon me for saying, but I threw up a little in my mouth. Consider this a PSA: When you are helping your child pull up his/her pants after pottying, be sure you are safely out of the designated toilet splash zone. You are welcome.
We worked our way around the store, but I was quite mistaken that we could actually complete our shopping in under 60 minutes, so I went and removed the boys from "Smaland," while J. kept shopping, only to discover their misbehavior while they had been playing. Sigh. I asked Jason where we went wrong that the boys can't act straight for a mere hour. He assured me that boys are boys and they get into trouble. It's their nature. Double sigh.
As it turns out, we picked up some great finds! A small chandelier to hang over our dining table, an under-the counter rack I jokingly refer to as our new wine cellar, some boxes for organizing our "home office" and a few other odds and ends. We made it home with all our goods and our children in one piece. But next time, I'm really going to rally for going alone.
I tried to convince Jason to take me a couple of weekends ago. By "take me" I mean load up all the kids and let's go together because I knew there was no way he was going to let me be gone alone for half a day after he got up at dark:thirty and then slung coffee for a full 8 hours. I'm sure he would have been pleased as punch for me to take all of the little angels with me and go by myself, but there was less than a snowball's chance in hell of that happening.
Turns out, he didn't feel like going that day, with all the early rising and coffee laboring he endured that particular morning. But since he was off last Saturday AND I indulged him by not complaining when he said he wanted to spend most of the morning and a better part of the afternoon fishing with his buddy, he agreed to go that afternoon.
And what an arduous journey it was. "Arduous" is never a word I want to equate with a trip to Ikea again. It's like saying "disgusting birthday cake." Birthday cake should never ever be anything but fluffy, sweet and delicious (and preferably chocolate), just as a trip to Ikea should be fun and carefree, like white fluffy clouds. But arduous...never good.
For starters, Missy, who is pretty much completely potty-trained, Praise Jesus, was having some "difficulties." Let's just say that the first leg of the trip should have been a 30 minute trip south, but it took almost an hour because we had to make 2 pit stops for her to just go in and sit. And sit. And sit.
We finally arrived a bit later than originally intended and to my delight I was able to check the boys into "Smaland" or whatever the Swedish word is for the place where little people can play while their parents shop in relative peace for exactly ONE hour. It only took about half an hour to get them set up and checked in, so I took care of this while J. took Missy to the restroom. Again.
We got about halfway around Ikea, to probably the farthest point one could be from the restroom, when Missy decided, with great urgency, that she needed to go yet again. Lord, help me. I took her, she did some bidness, and then... the horror. I flushed the potty and too promptly squatted down to help Missy with the pulling up of the pants. Except that as the toilet was flushing I had unwittingly put my face even with the bowl and TOILET WATER SPLASHED OUT AND LANDED RIGHT.ON.MY.LIP. Pardon me for saying, but I threw up a little in my mouth. Consider this a PSA: When you are helping your child pull up his/her pants after pottying, be sure you are safely out of the designated toilet splash zone. You are welcome.
We worked our way around the store, but I was quite mistaken that we could actually complete our shopping in under 60 minutes, so I went and removed the boys from "Smaland," while J. kept shopping, only to discover their misbehavior while they had been playing. Sigh. I asked Jason where we went wrong that the boys can't act straight for a mere hour. He assured me that boys are boys and they get into trouble. It's their nature. Double sigh.
As it turns out, we picked up some great finds! A small chandelier to hang over our dining table, an under-the counter rack I jokingly refer to as our new wine cellar, some boxes for organizing our "home office" and a few other odds and ends. We made it home with all our goods and our children in one piece. But next time, I'm really going to rally for going alone.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Showing Off
Last night Jason created this little slideshow and posted it on our (shameless plug alert) family website www.sturgfam.com that he updates about once a year. Or when should be doing homework for seminary, but gets the hankering to dabble in some video production instead. Because we all know THAT'S what's going to get him through seminary. Forget all the book-reading, paper-writing bidness. Clearly, he's all about the priorities.
I'm not complaining about the lack of website updates because I suppose I could figure out how to do it on my own, but I'd probably crash the internets with my astounding technological creativity. I'm doing good to sync my iPhone by myself, so building and maintaining websites is not something I have listed on my 100 Things To Do Before I Die list.
Anyway, it's a cute little slideshow proudly featuring our little angels. Check it out! And leave me some love telling me how oh-so-adorable they are!
I'm not complaining about the lack of website updates because I suppose I could figure out how to do it on my own, but I'd probably crash the internets with my astounding technological creativity. I'm doing good to sync my iPhone by myself, so building and maintaining websites is not something I have listed on my 100 Things To Do Before I Die list.
Anyway, it's a cute little slideshow proudly featuring our little angels. Check it out! And leave me some love telling me how oh-so-adorable they are!
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