31 October 2007
Blue is (not sure if I've already said) dressing as a pirate. She is super excited. Ever since we played minigolf on a pirate ship at Ocean City this summer she has been obsessed with pirates. Her favorite game is to scream "The pirates are coming! The pirates are coming! Aaaaaaah!" and then run around like a maniac.
So of course when I saw a pirate costume for toddler girls in Target, I had to get it.
The Lion is going to wear his Manchester United uniform.
I wonder if I should dress up for this party. The problem is, dressing up as something kids will appreciate (like an animal or clown or scarecrow or some shite like that) requires actual costume gear that we just don't have lying around. I mean, I have thought of a couple of lame ideas but I don't think the kids will get the joke -- or even the other parents.
Like I have this fall that matches my hair. I bought it before my wedding, in case my hairdresser needed to make my hair fuller, but then she didn't need it. Sometimes I wear it if I'm having a bad hair day and it always cracks Jonathan up because it looks so realistic. He'll come home and ta-da his wife has long hair today! Anyway, I thought I could wear that and some huge sunglasses and tacky clothes and carry some Starbucks and be ...
Sigh. Britney Spears. See? Pretty lame. I think I would just look like myself except with longer hair.
Pathetic. I don't even have a witch hat to pull out of storage...
But it's not about me. I know this. But I love Halloween. I love dressing up. I just didn't realize I would have an opportunity to do so this year until I got the flier from Blue's teacher yesterday asking parents to attend the party. I'm going to go ransack my closet...
30 October 2007
I HATE MY MOM!
She threw my things in the hall just because my room was messy. She threw these things: MY camera, MY porcelin cabbage patch kid (miniature), MY flashlight, MY flute, and MY make-up (some make-up cases BROKE!) and other things!
I HATE HER!
P.S. DON'T TELL but I threw her pantyhose away because they were in MY room!
Description of Josh:
He is tall, with thick black curls, big brown eyes, freckles. He is the tallest kid in the class he is younger than me, he turned 10 in October. He also has a great sense of humor. When I go near him it sends tingles down my spine. Could it REALLY be love?
Friday Nov. 8 1985
Josh likes someone else. I no longer like him. I feel like he ripped my insides out! I feel empty.
I hate Christina! I never want to speak to her again! Every time I tell Laura that she says "sure!"
The hilarious thing about this entry is that I am still friends with Christina!
Today in P.E. Jon looked so cute with his hair all windblown and all. But when I talked to him he looked at my CHEST! I was SO EMBARESSED!!!!!
Today is my party I can't wait until 7:00. I invited Lisa, Sissy, Christina, Lynn, and Laura + Heather. I rented 2 movies for it! Dark Crystal and Parent Trap. The girls will spend the night. I have a whole list of games to play. Sorry, Mom had to BUY THE CAKE!
Today Lisa, Sissy and Christina stayed most of the day. Today is my birthday! Christina had to go. Then Sissy. Mom and I had to drop Lisa off. I tripped on the pavement and hurt my knee. OW!
Anyway, it looks awesome down there. I never realized how huge our basement is!
But the important discovery I made? I found an old diary of mine. My friend, Christina, who I have mentioned many times and who I am still friends with after seventeen years, gave this diary to me for my 10th birthday. I wrote in it intermittently throughout the next several years.
People, this diary is priceless. Jonathan was reading aloud to me from it Saturday night in bed and we were rolling. I mean, we were actually in silent-laughter mode. There were tears shed.
So I will be posting some of the highlights from my diary. Brace yourselves. Brace. Your. Selves.
I missed him terribly. Not only was I way too busy taking care of the toodlers all week without any breaks to blog but I was so tired after they went to bed! And I didn't want to say anything about Jonathan being out of town because I didn't want all those psycho internet predators out there to know I was home alone. I watch all those scary shows on A&E. I know how it is.
There really isn't anything on tv after dark (especially the week before Halloween) that isn't designed to scare the shit out of me. I decided Tuesday night that I wouldn't watch anything like SVU or CSI or Cold Case Files. So I stupidly put on the news. The evening news, people, is way scarier than anything any television show could come up with. Seriously.
Last week, I learned, some man crept into a house in Manassas through an unlocked window and into bed with a 10 year old girl. He escaped after raping her while her parents were down the hall sleeping and no one has any clue who this monster is because he had a ski mask over his face.
I set our alarm and lay in bed each night for hours listening to my pounding heart, sitting upright every time I heard a noise.
I am woman. Hear me roar.
29 October 2007
I have been told, in no uncertain terms, that cutting and pasting a blurb from the Onion (even though I think it is funny) does not count as writing on my blog. So, erm, sorry 'bout that and I'll post tomorrow. I promise.
If anyone even cares about the tedious goings on in the life of a girlysmack who doesn't write for an entire week and then expects anyone to still care about her. Or something.
23 October 2007
21 October 2007
Well, he's not actually here, per say, because the boys are currently revisiting their old stomping ground, MWC, with Blue -- or as Jonathan put it, posing as a gay couple with their adopted daughter because everyone knows young coeds cannot resist the appeal of a small child.
Anyway, Random Question of the Day:
Do you think family recipes should be shared or closely guarded?
20 October 2007
Still I bring flowers
Although you fling them at my feet
Until none stays
That is not struck across with wounds:
Flowers and flowers
That you may break them utterly
As you have always done.
I still bring flowers, flowers,
Knowing how all
Are crumpled in your praise
And may not live
To speak a lesser thing.
William Carlos Williams
The conversation continues for the duration of the trip. No change in wording or inflection for the entire ride home.
Katherine complimented one of my recent posts today and I was so thrilled. Seriously, completely thrilled. Because not only do I suffer qualms regarding punctuation and grammar (due largely to Katherine herself) but I also read too many other blogs to think mine is very interesting. But enough blog insecurity. Sorry 'bout that! I don't want to be one of those girls who is always saying, "I'm so fat. I'm so ugly. blahblah" so that her friends are required to say, "No, you're not. You're wonderful. blahblah" back.
Anyway, I am very tired so the grammar and the punctuation police will have to suck it. Although I did just correct a typo. I had typed pol;ice which looks kinda cute, but I am nowhere near that tired. My God.
The thing is Andy's flight was delayed. By like 7 hours, so basically he lost an entire day of his visit. Which sucks. So Jonathan has gone to pick him up at the airport and then they will probably arrive here somewhere close to midnight.
And I am torn as to what I should do.
Should I get all dressed properly and greet him at the door which may cause him to feel obligated to stay up even later (bearing in mind it will be about 5 in the morning England-time and no one can ever sleep on a plane)
Do I just go to bed so the boys can catch up and Andy can go to bed if he wants?
Gentle Reader, what would you do? And is it too too obvious what I want to do?
I can't believe Boombox is in this! That is so funny...
So we set up the kids' little table in the living room with 2 shot glasses and a bunch of Coronas. And then realized we had no limes, so Jonathan grabbed a little bottle of lime juice from the fridge.
And then, since Power Hour can start a little slowly, we decided to watch the movie that Netflix sent us over a month ago:
Seriously. I'm not making this up.
Anyway, I barely made it 10 minutes into the Power Hour before the beer made me feel very ill. Maybe it was the lime juice. Anyway, I don't know what I was even thinking. I'm not much of a drinker.
But Laura was awesome.
Jonathan: Ohhhh, are you just saying that because I said it earlier?
Erin: No, I'm really going to miss you.
Jonathan, leering wickedly: You know what I'm going to miss? Wait, what is that on the tip of your nose? Are you eating a bagel?
Erin: Yeah, it's cream cheese.
19 October 2007
Where to begin ... where to begin ...
I haven't blogged all week. I have been too busy reading Katherine's blog. What the hell? Where does this girl find the time to work? Or work on her thesis? Or apply all of the product she is constantly reviewing? Seriously, KPack, do you ever sleep?
I am so excited that Jonathan's BFF, Andy, is coming to visit tomorrow! And then I realized that he will really only be at our house for like 3 days. Somehow that slipped my mind. After that he and Jonny travel up to New York to visit their other BFF, Dustin, and do whatever it is a bunch of guys do for a week in New York. I know they are attending a taping of the Maury show on Thursday. In fact, I am 150% sure they are doing that on Thursday. Sorry. That was a little Maury show humor. Jonathan is sort-of an addict.
I emailed the DWAFS, inviting them over on Sunday night for a bonfire to meet Andy and eat s'mores. (Jonathan made fun of me for calling our firepit a "bonfire" but what else would you call it?) Andy emailed me back and asked me if we would be setting off fireworks and celebrating Guy Fawkes Night since it is sort-of close to November 5. I asked Jonny what celebrating Guy Fawkes Night entails. Would we need a real bonfire? He said we would need to burn an effigy. I said we could go get one of those scarecrows they are selling at Wal-Mart and burn it in the back yard. What a night of drunken revelry that would be! Our grass (what little we have) is so dead and dry our whole yard would probably catch on fire.
I'll consider it, though, because the DWAFS are such anglophiles. It might be really fun to celebrate Guy Fawkes Night. Especially since we will have an honest-to-God Englishman in our midst to show us how it's done!
15 October 2007
Scene: Party guests sit at a table during a wedding reception (which was possibly the most amazing wedding reception I've ever been to) talking about the Melting Pot Restaurant.
me, to girl from New York: Have you ever been to the Melting Pot?
girl from NY: The Melting Pot?
me: It's this chain of fondue restaurants ...
girl from NY: Oh! No, I don't think we have one in the city.
girl from NY: I think there's maybe one in New Jersey, though.
14 October 2007
12 October 2007
The funny thing is the wedding is in this amazing place in Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania, where his cousin was married last fall. The same place. Isn't that weird? It must be the destination place for wedding in Pennsylvania or something. Anyway, I am really looking forward to it because it is a gorgeous place and the food was really fantastic.
A night without the toodlers... It has been months since we got away. Since our trip to England in the spring, actually.
Roxanna and Tim are going to babysit for us. Poor fools.
I only hope that this weekend doesn't scare them out of bearing children.
No, seriously, they are going to have so much fun. And I am going to miss the toodlers so much. The Lion went shopping with me today, and on the way home we were listening to some doo-wop and he was singing his heart out "bop ba dop bop ba dop" in the backseat. He is so cute sometimes my heart hurts.
Speaking of so cute ... Jonathan just sat beside me and saw what I was writing and he was like, "Don't tell people we're going away! They'll break into our house and steal our kids!" When I looked at him and said, "Um, Roxanna and Tim are going to be here," he told me, "Put in there that Tim is a marine."
10 October 2007
09 October 2007
I cannot explain this. I don't even fully understand it.
Today I was in Target with the toodlers and I found myself in the dog aisle. And we don't have a dog. What was even weirder was when I was unloading my cart onto the conveyor belt and there were 2 dog bowls and a chew toy in there. I didn't buy them, of course, because we don't have a dog.
But I want one. And what I want is an English bulldog. Jonathan and I spent hours looking at videos of other people's bulldogs on Youtube Sunday night. You know you really need a pet when you are watching videos of other people's pets sleeping and you think it's cute. They are cute, though. Apparently, English bulldogs snore.
But it is silly, right? I mean, is it just that we haven't had a pet in almost a year? Or that both of our dogs were so clearly Jonathan's dogs and not mine? Or that the Lion seems more and more like a little boy and less and less like a clingy baby? Or that my life is not insane enough with these 2 toodlers underfoot and I need a puppy to chew my house to shreds and pee on everything?
And of course I am crushing on some fancy breed (read expensive) when our other pets were all from the SPCA or found wandering in our neighborhood... Is it because the breed is English? Because I already have supercute English names all picked out, whether the puppy be a boy or a girl.
Yes, people, I have got it bad.
Blue to the barista: I'm Bluebird. This is Erin-Mommy. And that (pointing to a huge fly on the counter) is a big bug.
08 October 2007
His head nodding with each to and fro,
His eyelids drooping, lashes casting spiky shadows on his cheeks.
He looks toward the window at the stained glass apple hanging there.
"See that?" he asks and points a stubby finger in the air.
"Yes, I see that," I answer.
He asks that question, and I answer that answer every day.
His toys trail across the floor, testimony to this tiny tornado,
Ending at his scuffed, blue sneakers with the Velcro straps on top.
They are a most treasured possession, his ticket to outside.
His short legs dangle over my knee, and I can't believe how fast he has gotten here.
I'd like to stop time, or to reverse it, and relive the last two years at a slower pace.
He lifts his hands.
They almost open and almost close several times.
They turn quarter turns, back and forth, in a dancing ritual I know heralds his surrender.
His hands still, and his body grows heavy and limp.
His encrusted tee shirt tells the tale of breakfast, lunch, and snacks.
With my fingernail, I remove a raisin from the cowboy on his pocket.
I whisper to him about all the places he will go,
And the man that he will be,
And all the things that he will see.
"See that," I say.
06 October 2007
04 October 2007
I think, maybe, if I lost someone close to me (KNOCK ON WOOD!) (see I am superstitious, though!) I would really want so badly to believe in those psychics like John Edward and Sylvia Browne, that I would believe anything they told me.
But I am getting off the subject.
I do not believe in ghosts.
But last night when I was putting Blue to bed, she seriously scared the crap out of me.
She was putting her bunny, Nicholas, down on the bed between her and the wall. "Nicholas goes right here," she told me, "so the Mad One can't get him."
Just like that. The Mad One. All succinct, like the Mad One deserves to be capitalized. Like something out of a science fiction book, like He Who Must Not Be Named or Those We Do Not Speak Of.
I tried to keep it light. "Madeleine? You are keeping Madeleine from getting Nicholas?" (Madeleine is one of her favorite books and she keeps it in her nightstand, so it was worth a shot.
She looked at me, a little frustrated. "No, not Madeleine. The Mad One."
I told myself, What a great imagination my daughter has! "Who is the Mad One, Blue? Is he a man?"
"Yes, The Mad One is a man. He's a mad man. He is very mad. Do you see him?"
I told myself this was silly. That the hairs on the back of my neck were silly. "No, honey, I don't see him. Do you see him?"
She nodded slowly, with dramatic effect. I thought, God, this kid is good! She could give that kid from "The Sixth Sense" a run for his money!
"Where is he?" I asked her.
She pointed to her window. "Right there."
Heartbeat. Heartbeat. Heartbeat.
"Do you see him, Mommy?"
I looked at the window, trying to look nonchalant and also to look as quickly as humanly possible. Thankfully, nothing.
"No. He's not there, honey. No one is there. It's okay. Let's read a story!"
So I tried to change the subject. I read her a story. I put the book away. As I walked back over to her bed, I casually closed her curtains a little tighter.
"So the Mad One can't come in," Blue told me, obviously still thinking about that. Then she added, "With his hammer."
What the ...? So Jonathan came in a moment later to say goodnight, and I pounced. "Blue, have you ever told Daddy about the Mad One?"
He smirked at me. "Oh, yeah. She talks about him all the time. Where have you been?"
"No," I told him, feeling ridiculous, "I'm being serious. The Mad One. Have you ever heard of him? He's this mad guy and he comes in her window and he's really mad and he has a hammer and--"
"Blue," Jonathan cut me off with a serious frown that said Chill Out, "tell me about the Mad One. Is he a man?"
"Yes," Blue said again, "he's a man. He's a king!"
"A king?!" I echoed stupidly. "The Mad One is a king?!"
"Mm-hm," Jonathan shot me a look. "A king. I see. Where does he live?"
"In my castle," Blue said, pointing towards her window. She calls her swingset a castle. "And he is mad. And bad. And the princess is sad. She ... she sits at her table and cries. And she cries... And then the pirate comes..."
I am such an idiot.
I do not believe in ghosts. I don't, Jonathan. I swear.
02 October 2007
3/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 large egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups quick-cooking oats (not instant)
3/4 cup dried cranberries
6 ounces white chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 375°F.
In a large bowl using an electric mixer combine the sugar, brown sugar and butter; mix well to cream together.
Add in egg and vanilla extract and mix until combined.
Add the cinnamon, baking soda, salt and flour and mix well.
Fold in the oatmeal, dried cranberries and white chocolate chips- making sure that all ingredients are uniformly distributed.
Roll dough into 1-inch balls and place 3 inches apart onto a greased cookie sheet and bake at 375° for 10-12 minutes, just until the edges are lightly golden.
Remove from oven and let cool for 2-3 minutes on the cookie sheet, then transfer cookies to cooling rack.
These are the cookies I am baking to bring to Blue's preschool.