Catch of the Day

Fishing is a favorite activity of ours down on Mom's farm. The lake (which we can't swim in anymore due to out-of-control algae -- if we kill the algae, we kill the fish along with it) is home to bluegills and large-mouth bass, and is rumored to have a catfish or two. We were very successful our first day out, catching a couple of nice-sized large-mouth bass. John decided that this would be his new pet. Prior to catching this fish, the worms and minnows we bought for bait were his pets. After we caught this guy, he wanted to throw the bait into the bucket holding the bass, to feed his new pet.



Later, when Chris was fishing with Jeff, he told his dad he really wanted to catch a fish, and what would they do if they caught one?
"Then we would reel it in."
"What if it's as big as an Orca?"
"Then the fish will probably catch you."
"What if we catch an Orca?"
"Well, Orcas don't live in fresh water. They live in salt water."

You know what's coming next.

"What if we dump a whole lot of salt in the lake?"

Our own, personal Field of Dreams, of sorts. If you salt it, they will come.

But first...

Speaking of Hannah... look who got into Mommy's "makeups" today...

Gimme an E! Gimme a G! Gimme an O!

So many cute and funderful things happened down on the farm, I don't know where to start! Hannah was particularly entertaining one afternoon...

Mom brought out her tape of Curves music that she uses to get Gigi to exercise. Hannah immediately took to the "stage" (see below)



and started shaking her bootie. She was doing moves I had never seen before, wiggling that tiny little butt, and just rocking out in general. Naturally, she accessorized with a magic wand and a blue feather boa. Then she did one of those "skip-dance around the perimeter of the stage" things that performers do. Where on earth did she pick that up??



But I think by far my favorite was when she started playing cheerleader. She jumped around the step of the "stage" repeating "How about ME? How about ME?" over and over again. I thought that was a pretty good interpretation of the cheerleader mentality.

Next up: A Whale of a Tale

Lesson #1 Learned on the Farm

If you squeeze a frog, it will pee on you.



Oh, dear. She looks like she has man-hands, doesn't she?

Tic-tock, tic-tock

We had a really great vacation down on Mom's farm in Kentucky, and I'm going to share all sorts of stories with you as soon as I can stop scratching all over my scalp to make sure there aren't any tics on me. The darn things were so small, they looked like freckles. I feel like Howard Hughes. The "bugs crawling all over me" part, not the insanely rich part.

Such a fine line....

Jeeze, when it rains, it pours! I have so much to talk about today! Most recently is my inadvertant blurring of the lines between fantasy and reality. My kids are crazy about the Zelda games. The one with young Link as the hero. They love it, because a kid is the hero in these games. Well, Chris lost another tooth and got a whopping five dollars for it (I know, I know, but we didn't have any Susan B. Anthony's). He decided to write a letter to Link and send him his five dollars. He really did! He sealed hias five dollar bill into the envelope and put a stamp on it! It's all legal!

So I thought, he's doing this in hopes that Link will write him back. And so (he) did. Chris doesn't have the pessimistic view of the United Staes Postal Service that I do. He believes that if he writes a letter Saturday night, it is entirely plausible that he receive a response Monday morning. He was thrilled to hear that Link was appreciative of his "blue rupee" and that Link thanked him for his assistance in defeating the evil Ganon.





Worlds.... colliding. Yes, I had told them that they were only games. They weren't real. Now my word has been challenged. "Does this mean Link is real? How can the mailman go to their world? What if Ganon finds out where Zelda is hiding?" Aaaahhhhh.... crap. The best answer I have been able to come up with is: "I'm not sure. What do you think?"

Any suggestions?

My Old Kentucky Home

Well, I never lived there, but we're headed out tomorrow morning for a real, actual vacation. A whole week's worth. At my mom's farm in Kentucky. For a week. Seven days. About 25% of a month. The tinge of stress you see coming through the keyboard is sympathetic. I, personally, can't wait. I think my mom is fun and cool. The children will get to visit with their Gigi (G-G standing for Great Grandmother, how cool is that?) Their Aunt Susie will be there, which may be the most exciting part of it all for the kids, because they adore her with every fiber of their being. Their Uncle John and Aunt Melinda will be there, and there is just no such thing as not having a thoroughly good time with those two around.

I think it just boils down to "You're supposed to be stressed out when you visit your in-laws." I don't know why. Jeff is so laid back and friendly. I think he still harbors resentments from the time my mom, upon hearing that Jeff cooks with Adobo, "informed him" that Adobo has more salt than salt itself. Whatever. It tastes good. Let it go. To even the playing field, Jeff had a very good point when he called my mom out on thawing frozen raw chicken in a cooler filled with ice water and cans of soda.

So, wish us luck as we motor 12 hours across the country. You know what the #2 thing the kids are really excited about regarding this trip? Well, we're not going to drive the twelve hours straight through. We're going to stop over in Lexington, Kentucky and stay at a "ho-and-tell." They're totally psyched about the swimming pool, cruddy delivery pizza, and late night TV. Actually, so am I.

Now, where was I?

I just love to watch and listen to Chris talking on the phone. He is quite chatty, and can go on for what must seem from the other end to be an eternity. As he talks on the cordless phone (does anybody even still have a corded phone??), he never stops moving. Usually he walks in circles. If he is in the living room, he will walk around and around the coffee table. If he is in the dining room, he just makes his own little circle. It's dizzying to watch. So, if you are talking to Chris on the phone, and every twelve seconds you hear him say "Excuse me," that means he is in the living room, stepping over me as he circles the coffee table.

ANYway, this afternoon he was talking to his aunt, and had to ask me a question mid-conversation. When he returned to talking to his aunt, he said, "Now, where was I?" It's these little things that tickle me. Where did he pick up that phrase? Apparently, one of his parents is easily distracted and forgetful. I wish I could remember which one of us that....

OH OH OH! And today, we were all looking through pictures, and found some of our wedding pictures. Then, a few minutes later, we were playing the guitar and piano. The kids asked me to play something on the piano, so I plunked out a bit of the Wedding March, and asked if anyone recognized it. The boys immediately called out "The wedding song! Is that the song you and Daddy had when you got married?" Well, no, it wasn't. Our string quartet minus one played Pachebel's Canon in D. They wanted me to play it on the piano for them, but caught on the spot, I couldn't even remember the melody. So I went to my beloved computer and Googled it. Lo and behold, dozens of MIDIs. I played a MIDI for them, and planned my ambush on Jeff.

"You know, boys, if we play this song when Daddy comes home, I'll bet you anything he will cry." I know, how evil am I, right? But it was the perfect opportunity to teach the children about tears of joy.

Well... I always assumed they were tears of joy.


BTW -- he did cry. Then he asked if he was in trouble.



Tonight, our house is filled with music. We're having a blast!

Mother's Day Comes Early

I want to devote this entry explicitly to my husband. You don't hear too much about him, but tonight I am feeling especially thankful for having the great luck to have him as my husband. The kids were so loud and full of energy today that by around four in the afternoon, I felt a headache coming on. By seven o'clock, 1-1/2 uneaten dinners, a broken picture frame, a carpetful of crushed Oreo cookies, three loads of laundry, about 1,000 shrieks at 5 bajillion decibles, and a broken glass candle holder later, I was thankful only for the fact that I am not prone to migraines.

Jeff came home an hour later and immediately saw my exasperated angry face, muttering the words, "Kill the Girl" between my clenched teeth. I was presented with an early gift of Cinnabons (oh heavenly sugar-carb overload) and.... AND he is putting the children to bed all by himself as I type. I am blessed.

He cooks. A lot. Well. He cleans up the kitchen. He brings me coffee in bed EVERY morning before he leaves for work. He gets verklempt watching Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. He walks up the stairs with a 50 pound boy firmly gripping each leg. He joins in on Hannah's tea parties. He goes grocery shopping, often with all three children. He can bring home the bacon and fry it up in the pan, and never, never let me forget he's a man.

And he can stick to a diet way better than I can. And he's okay with that.

I love you, Jeff. Happy Mother's Day.

School Daze

Jeff asked me this evening if I plan to get involved with the school when the boys begin kindergarden. I have no interest in politics, so I won't be joining the PTA, NEA or PLO, but I definitely want to have a hand in things -- helping out with special events -- projects, shows, storytime, Tasting Friday -- what have you. Then he brought up the fact that I am going to be home alone five days a week with That Girl. How am I going to handle that?

Simple. I am going to do girly-girl stuff with her. We're going to get manicures every week. The occasional pedicure. We'll go window shopping and try on fabulous dresses. We will get Mother-Daughter lower back tattoos -- mine will say "Juicy Mama" and hers will say "Juicy Juice."

Sticky

For a brief moment, we had a family pet. His name was "Sticky," and he was an Eastern Tent caterpillar. During his brief stay with us (about an hour), much love was bestowed upon him. He was cute, he was fuzzy, he was friendly. He was stepped on.

Hannah has developed a crush on an older man. She is 3-1/2, he is 25-1/4. He can throw a tennis ball higher than anyone she's ever seen. (She has very high standards.)

Chris has written a book. The first page reads "Once upon a time there was a mad Mommy." Then there are about eight pages of me, wielding sword and shield, battling the Evil Gannon, twenty-nine pages of warps, and then I am a happy Queen. Yes, we are in touch with Dell Books.

John is using the word "mediocre." He still believes when he finds a four leaf clover, he can wish himself into a cat. Our neighbor just showed him a magic trick, where he "pulls" a ball out of his ear. John is asking Jeff to do it now. I think I had better hide all the beans.

Sorry, I know this is a lousy entry -- I just don't have much right now. But I'll keep trying. I'm registering the boys for kindergarden this week, and kind of freaking out about it.