a gypsy caravan

wordless wednesday-silly girls

what mae was doing while I wrote that last blog post (or "why I haven't written a post since february")

I often feel badly that I don't write more often here in this space. I really wanted it to be an almost daily journal of our goings on. I hadn't written since February and decided I'd quickly write the April Ruffle post to join in Ginny's fun. I was careful to assign Mae, age 2 1/2, to her sister for a few minutes of watercolor artistry and playing giraffes. Apparently things didn't go as I thought they were going upstairs and her sister (who shall remain nameless) got distracted. Mae was found, seven minutes after I began writing the blog post, on the floor painting her toenails. The child needs Constant. Parental. Supervision.

To her credit, she did not get a single drop on the floor.

Apparently seven minutes is long enough for a pedicure in Mae's Salon. Anyone want to be her second customer? :)

 

sisters in the sun

our lady...

of the perpetually unmatched sock pile, pray for us.

a logical substitute

Earlier this morning Annie was walking around taking photos with her little camera. "Mommy, can I take your picture?" "Wait until I get dressed and out of my PJs." "Ok, I will just take a picture of the dishwasher."

Dottie, Dotson, Dotmatrix....

 

This morning I took our nine month old cat, Dottie, to the vet.  She had an early appointment because she was scheduled to be spayed and declawed.  The receptionist told me that she would be calling me when Dottie's surgeries were complete. 

An hour later, I received a call.  The woman on the other end of the line sounded tense. 
"Rebecca? I have something to tell you."

My mind wandered and settled on the thought that poor Dottie may have died during surgery.  I braced myself for the worst news.

"Yes?  What is it?", I said.

"We cannot spay Dottie today."

"Why not? I made Dottie's appointment well in advance and brought her in on time. What is the problem? Is she sick?", I asked.

"We cannot spay Dottie because...Dottie is a boy."

"What?"

"Dottie is a boy cat."

"A boy?!? Are you sure?!? Dottie even has girl parts!"

"Well, those turned out to be very small boy parts."

"But she has been into your office three other times!"

"Well, on some cats, it is not easily distinguishable."

At this point I started laughing very hard.  My children are staring at me because they have not seen me laugh that hard in quite some time.

"I just bought her...I mean him...a pink cat carrier! And she...I mean he..drinks out of a pink bowl and wears a pink collar."

"Well, you can pretend she is a girl if you'd like but we thought you should know she...I mean he...is a boy."

So, I have never heard of anything quite so strange.  I am still chuckling when I think about it.  The kids are trying to decide on a new name for Dottie but it is difficult because we have called her Dottie since we found her...I mean him, last summer.

Any name ideas would be appreciated.  And anyone needing a pink cat carrier, let me know. :)

Maybe I Need a Unibrow

I was standing in front of the mirror putting on my minimal daily makeup (foundation, mascara, lip gloss) when Benjamin walked past the bathroom door. The door was open so he walked in and said, "Good morning".  I began plucking a few stray eyebrows. 

"Ouch!  What are you DOING?!?"

"Oh, just neatening up my brows."

"WHY?!? Doesn't that HURT?!"

"Not really.  Just getting some of the straggling hairs that would make my eyebrows look like furry caterpillars if left unplucked."

"Who CARES if your eyebrows are furry?  Isn't that kind of vain?"

"Well, I suppose a little but I don't want to look like a mountain man or like Frida Kahlo."

"Who CARES if you look like Frida Kahlo.  She made some beautiful art."

"Well, regardless, I wouldn't want to be remembered by my distinguishing facial hair."

"Well now your son will remember you as a woman who voluntarily PULLED HER EYEBROWS OUT!"

"Better that than remembering your mother had an awning of an eyebrow to comb every day."

"Why do you wear makeup anyway?  It really is kind of silly if you think about it.  Painting your face and covering your lashes with black paint."

"I suppose it is an odd custom.  I have found the older I get the more tired I look.  I just wear a bit of makeup to perk up my face."

"Perk up your face?  You mean HIDE it?"

"Well, just the flaws, not the whole face."

"FLAWS?!?  Who decides if you have FLAWS?!? What if every lady in the world stopped wearing makeup?  Would you do it?"

"Sure.  But I don't think that is going to happen."

"Well, maybe you should be the first to do it."

"I just don't have it in me to start a unibrow growing, makeup-less world wide revolution, Ben. Besides, I think I look a little better with a touch of makeup."

"'John Doe' in our Scout Troop has a unibrow.  He shaves it in the middle."

"Well, he is a boy and it is more acceptable for boys to have hair between their eyes."

"Who made THAT up?!? Who DECIDES these things?!?"

Sigh.  

*********

Please tell me he has entered the Argumentative Stage.  It's just a necessary stage of learning and development, right? :)

Overheard

Annie singing: "Yamb of God, you take away the sins of the weird.  Have mercy on us."

When There is a Spiderweb...

...in your children's bathtub, it might be a reminder that it is time for them to take a bath. 

 I'm just sayin'.

Just So You Know...

If you should ever decide (like maybe at midnight) that you might like to cut your own bangs (that are almost grown out) into tiny baby bangs so you can look like Halle Berry, I would suggest that you resist that temptation.

I did not end up looking like Halle Berry for three reasons:

1. I am white
2. I am overweight and thus lack the cheekbones
3. I am not a hairdresser

I mean, they are minor reasons but there they are nonetheless.

Photos will not follow.

Home from Camp

Ben has been gone for the past week at Boy Scout camp. When I picked him up this morning he looked tan and healthy and stood a bit taller than he did when we dropped him off last weekend. There is something about an all male environment, eating what you're served, sleeping in a tent and spending 100% of your days and night outdoors that makes a boy look a bit more like a man.

Today was monumental for Ben because he will turn twelve years old tomorrow and now weighs 100 pounds. To Ben, that meant one thing...the ability to sit in the front of the van with Mom. No more having to argue with his brother and sisters for the prime seating location in the back. Nope, he is a big guy now and was smiling from ear to ear when I told him to hop up front.

On the drive home, Ben shared all that he had done at camp. He mentioned some achievements such as catching his first fish, taking it off the hook by himself, hitting the bulls eye a number of times on the rifle range, earning his Environmental Science and Swimming merit badges. He told me he didn't have much dirty laundry to wash because he hardly changed his clothes. (?!?) And yes, he had been faithful to say his prayers.

The clincher came when I asked him (like all mothers are inclined to do) whether he had brushed his teeth. Sheepishly he looked at me. "Yes, I brushed them." "That's my boy!" I exclaimed.

"On Thursday."

Trading Baseball Cards--Five Year Old Girl Style

Mary recently acquired a couple dozen baseball cards so she could trade with her brothers.

Overheard...

Christopher: Who will you give me for Rafael Palmeiro?

Mary: How about this catcher guy with the dark brown hair and handsome eyes?

Christopher (grabbing the card to read it) : That's Pudge Rodriguez. Are you sure you want to trade him 'cause I called no trade-backs.

Mary: Sure. His eyebrows are kind of strange anyway. Do you have any guys with red shirts?

Christopher: Ummm...no.

Mary: Do you have Baby Ruth?

Christopher: Ummm...no. Do you mean Babe Ruth? That card would be worth a lot of money.

Mary: Why?

Christopher: Because he was really good.

Mary: I thought Baby Ruth was a little girl.

Christopher: No, he wasn't a girl.

Mary: Well, that's kind of a dumb name for a boy. How about yellow shirts? Do you have any guys with yellow shirts?

Christopher: Sigh....

Multitasking

Who says you can't brush your teeth and wash your feet at the same time?

Injury-For Immediate Release

Bresnahan joins Hafner, Martinez on DL

Injuries mount for growing list of Cleveland Baseball legends

by Mike Bresnahan

(AP)- The 8U All Stars, along with its parent organization,  the Dairy Queen Aeros, announced today that First Baseman / Shortstop Christopher Bresnahan has been placed on the 60 day disabled list, effectively ending the season of the eight-year old phenom.  Chris sustained multiple fractures to the right arm after a freak accident that the club would not comment on.  However, sources close to the family said they witnessed the first baseman “swinging out of the play house window on a rope” shortly before the injury occurred.  It was not immediately known if such activity violated the terms of his contract.

“This is another big blow to Cleveland Baseball,” lamented Indians General Manager Mark Shapiro.  “It just seems like anything that can go wrong this year, does.”  Bresnahan was in the midst of an eleven-game hitting streak and his uncanny ability to leg out infield hits earned him the nickname “Bullet Feet”.

“No doubt I will be back next year, better than ever”, quipped Bresnahan , who is already looking forward to facing former teammate and all-star pitcher Ben Zimmerman in his first year of kid-pitch at the nine-year old level.

**************************************************

Surgery scheduled for early next week, plus an eight week recovery and physical therapy.  Not quite the way he envisioned the summer...

Summertime Faces

Taking Botany Too Far

Driving down the highway at sixty miles per hour:

Mary: "Mom? Mom! MOM!! STOP!"
Me: "What is wrong? What is it?!"
Mary: "I just saw some garlic mustard with its white flowers growing on the side of the highway!"
Me: "Mary, you can't scream like that about a PLANT.  You about scared me to death!  That is not an emergency."
Mary: "But Mom, garlic mustard is an invasive species! We need to go back and pull it out!"

That Went Well

Today I began a ten day detox lemon juice fast based loosely on the Master Cleanse Diet. I had bought two dozen lemons the other day in preparation for the fast. This morning at 8:30 I drank my disgusting salt water beverage (of which I drank half and then ran to the bathroom). I, then, prepared several glasses of warm water, lemon juice, cayenne pepper and sweetener (I used unsulphured molasses). I drank these throughout the day along with a number of quarts of purified water. By four o'clock I had a pounding headache.

At five o'clock I made a tray of cheese manicotti and a huge salad. I ate several helpings and now I feel all better.

Favorite lemon recipes please? :)

Why I Am Teetering on Insanity

Me: (Reading aloud at the table from 57 Saints): "Dominic Savio was the son of a blacksmith..."

Mary: "What's a blacksmith?"

Me: "A blacksmith is a person who makes things from metal, like the tools for our fireplace and the..."

Christopher: "The dining room chandelier?"

Me: "Yes, the wrought iron chandelier might have been made by a blacksmith if we had bought it years ago.  Now it was probably made in a factory.  OK, so anyhow, Dominic Savio's father was a blacksmith."

Mary: "What was his name?"

Me: "I don't know."

Chris: "Mr. Savio."

Mary: "Maybe it was Mike. Dad's name is Mike, like St. Michael the Archangel."

Me: "Maybe.  Ok, shhhh, Mary.  (Continuing to read) They lived in the small town of Riva, in Northern Italy."

Christopher: "The city of Venice is in Italy.  Is that near Riva?"

Me: "I don't know."

Mary: "There's more than one Archangel you know.  Gabriel and Michael and, what is the other one's name?"

Ben: "I'll get an atlas." Jumps from chair and runs up the steps to get the atlas.

Christopher: "Do you remember that book we read about Venice? About that little girl who sees all the lion statues?"

Ben (returning): "No, Riva is not that close to Venice. Vendela in Venice.  That's the book. That was a good book. "

Me: "Yes, it was.  Ok, now let's read more about St. Dominic Savio....(continuing to read)...Even when he was very small, he liked to pray.  Each morning, Dominic would get up at five o'clock with his..."

Christopher: "Five o'clock!! I used to get up that early and wake you up for breakfast when I was littler.  Do you remember that Mom?  Hey, don't the Fry's get up at five o'clock?  I wish we lived on a farm."

Ben: "Yeah, the Fry's live in Colorado so when they are waking up, it is seven o'clock our time."

Christopher: "Yeah, to milk their goats."

Mary: "I want a goat."

Webcam Fun with Dad

Elton Annie