I've said it before and I'll say it again.
I'm not sure if my problem is rare, or wide-spread.
I think most of us have caviar taste, and probably a great deal of us have a fish-stick budget. But I'm not sure how many people actually realize this to be true about themselves. I think its the being aware of the problem that makes it painful.
If I didn't know that I liked nice things, the fish-sticks wouldn't bother me.
If I didn't know that the money would indeed run out if I bought caviar instead of fish-sticks, I could enjoy the caviar without any thought.
Instead, I am fully aware that I want beautiful things, but can only afford "passable" things.
Complications include severe "I wants", indecision, frustration, and multiple opportunities to be reminded that humility is an appropriate cure.
I've heard that a steady diet of fish-sticks lasting well into the years that caviar could be afforded is the BEST way to ensure that the caviar can one day be consumed...most likely by my children.
I gotta find a way to make these "fish-sticks" in my life more interesting. Can you dress up a fish-stick? I know it will never be caviar, but it doesn't have to be soggy and sided with ketchup, right? Maybe we can upgrade to panko breaded? I *think* I deserve it, but then, what do I actually "deserve"? What does anybody deserve? Food for the belly and a home to live in. Anything above Fish-sticks and trailers is a privilege, isn't it? I would do well to remember that.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
I've said it before and I'll say it again.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Posted by Goob at 6:39 AM
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
As you left your room this morning,
Monday, April 27, 2009
No matter what your political bent when it comes to how to treat this planet we call home, see EARTH. There are probably two lines in it which you may cheer or jeer depending on your political point of view, and they are said in passing, as a tool to move the story along.
The cinematography is beautiful!
I would warn you however, if you have naturally inquisitive children, or scientifically minded children, or easily excitable children, or you spend alot of time at the zoo, don't expect your children to sit quietly through this movie. Every new scene will cause a squeal of delight, a question, an exclamation, or a giggle. Occassionally there may be an expression of concern.
This is a beautiful movie, and definitely one to see on the big screen. Nature at its best.
p.s. One thing I was really pleased with was the editing. They showed "the hunt" on multiple occassions, but they never showed any gore. This movie was totally appropriate for our 3 year old. The only time she worried was when an elephant left the herd being chased by lions. They did not show the lions taking down the elephant, she seemed worried that she was leaving her family. I did tell her a little fib though, when she asked why the elephant was leaving, I told her she was taking the lions for a walk so they wouldn't bother her family any more. I should have told her "She's going to make dinner" lol
Thursday, April 23, 2009
If this recipe were made according to its original directions, we could call it "Red Hot 'N' Bleu" Dip, but since I'm the only one who likes Bleu cheese in our house, we don't mix it in, and we can't call it Red Hot 'N' Bleu. Oh well. I'll have to save my cleverness for another time.
Posted by Goob at 9:53 PM
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
If its easy, it makes you fat, if its difficult it makes you skinny.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Its gonna hit 100 degrees today! Yep, 100. I love the desert, I love everything about living here, even the heat. But, I will admit, it seems just a tad early for 100.
Posted by J. P. at 7:50 AM
Monday, April 20, 2009
Last week we got the call we'd been waiting on, to find out whether we'd be able to stay in the house we've been renting for the last year, or be looking for a different home.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
My 12 year old neice thinks her life has been ruined by a boy who won't shut-up. Wouldn't it be wonderful to go back to the days which were so innocent, the worst a boy could do to you was run his mouth when you didn't want him too?
Posted by Goob at 8:36 AM
Friday, April 17, 2009
I'm considering keeping a bar of soap in my purse.
After reviewing the following exchange, I'm sure you'll support me in this decision.
Me: Time to leave the park, lets go.
Lily: No, I'm not leaving
Me: Well, yes, you are leaving, lets go. (takes Lily by hand, moves in direction of home)
Lily: You are not my father! You are not my Mother! You are not my Brother!
Lily: I am not going home! (attempts to wrench hand away and head back to the park)
Me: (keeping hold of small three year old body)"do not do that, you will hurt your arm, we are going home now."
Lily: I am NOT HAPPY!!! You are NOT MY FATHER!
Me: Nope, I'm not your father, I'm your mother. I understand that you are not happy. Lets go.
Lily: I'm sick and tired!
Me: lets go.
Lily: I'm sick and TIRED!!!!
Me: what are you sick and tired of?
Lily: Pulling your HEAD out of your BUTT!
Me:---nothing--- honestly, what can you say when your three year old says this to you?
So I marched her home, put her in her room, and ran to tell her father what she has learned from him...neither of us could keep a straight face. But I defy her to try it again. Like I said, "Have Soap, will Travel."
Posted by Goob at 10:45 AM
Thursday, April 16, 2009
When a three year old tells you "smell my hand" its one's first response to be repulsed, followed by curiosity. Fortunately, in this instance, it was also followed by great pleasure that the hand in question smelled just like soft-soap, therefore, it had recently been washed.
Unfortunately, there was another smell eminating 'round the house that wasn't quite so pleasant. Upon returning from a long weekend in San Diego, there was a distinct "Port-a-Potty" smell in the kids hallway. It seemed to be coming from their bathroom, but I emptied the trash, washed the rug, mopped the floor, cleaned the toilet...no luck. I sniffed the shower curtain, nothing. Walked out of the room and into a bedroom, nothing. Walked back in--definitely something. UGH.
Two days later, the smell is equally pungeant, and the source equally undetectable. Then JP has a lightbulb moment. "Did you check the step-stool/training potty?" he asks. My eyes shot wide open, my lips turned down in a frown, I gingerly approached the former training potty (which by the way was used all of 2 times while actually potty training) and there it was. It smelled like a Port-a-Potty in the house because somebody (and it had darn well better be nobody other than a 3 year old!) had decided we needed a Port-a-Potty in our house and did horrible things in that pot.
We threw the entire pot out. No more step-stool in the kids bathroom, and there had better not be any more Port-a-Potty creations in my house!
Thank heavens for Gold Canyon Candles.
Posted by Goob at 9:25 AM
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Today is this guy's 6th birthday. This time of year brings many memories flooding back. Its amazing to me how 6 years can both seem like just yesterday, and like an entirely different lifetime. Gabriel, when you were born life was so different. We were newlyweds, Daddy was in the Marine Corps, we lived in government housing. That year we cleared 17k. Operation Iraqi Freedom had started just weeks before. Mommy thought Daddy was sitting in a tent safely in Kuwait (mommy was wrong, but daddy didn't bother to correct that impression until months later). After a small, but as it turns out helpful, miscommunication, Daddy thought the life of baby Gabriel was in danger. He's told us that after he read the letter that he misunderstood, he walked up to his superior officer and handed him his weapon, saying "I can't have this right now"...that's when events turned and phone calls were made, and 24 hours, a helicopter ride, a transport plane, an airliner, and an excruciatingly long car-ride, brought daddy home to see you before you were even 36 hours old. He had been on the other side of the earth and he came home to hold you. Daddy never went back to Iraq, but the war continues even today on your 6th birthday. I have loved watching you grow up. You have brought us so much laughter and joy. I will always remember the way you belly-laughed when you were a small baby, the look of surprise on your face when you jumped off the stairs onto the rubber ball and fell, the first time you said "awwwww craaaaaabitz!" and when you told me you already knew how to ride a bike, and then took off down the street without anyone ever having taught you how. I love that your favorite food is Broccoli, you're always eager to try new things, and you are kind to your sister. I even love that sometimes you are a little bit naughty, it means you think for yourself, and someday, when you get really good at using your own ideas to make good decisions, you will be a wonderful leader. Its wonderful to see you make friends wherever you go, study out scientific problems, and run, jump, and do all things "boy". Yes, son, I do love you. Happy Birthday!
Posted by Goob at 11:23 AM
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Update: Due to war crimes committed in rotting detention camps, the fruit-flies have secceded power. A rotting mass of strawberry tops and balsamic vinegar tucked into a bowl covered tightly in plastic with holes punched into it created the perfect trap. They couldn't help themselves, they had to get at that fruit, but there would be no escaping.
Posted by Goob at 7:52 AM
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Is it the guilt that makes me a good person, or is it the guilt that holds me back from being a force to be reckoned with?
***to be clear, I didn't do anything revengeful, I just felt like a little revenge had been served on my behalf.
Posted by Goob at 9:31 AM
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Next week we'll have to write up the menu party style, but this week, its back to the family table.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
In my battle against the most dread fruitfly, I refuse to wave my white flag. I will not retreat! Though the fruitfly general seems to be amassing support in the forms of local militia and youth organizations, I shall not be defeated!
Posted by Goob at 7:30 AM
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Gabriel, aka Gooby hit the pots and pans the other night and developed an excellent dish! What was his guidance from mom? "Please be safe near that hot pan" along with some actual physical assistance where bacon grease is involved, was about the extent of my input. I did season his creation when he was done, but other than that, this is GABE's original recipe!
Posted by Goob at 8:18 PM
Friday, April 3, 2009
Because yesterday, I bought a pair of "Easy-spirits"...and I darn near got a pair of Aerosoles in the same shopping trip, but I quickly realized that if I should approach the cashier with both a pair of Easy-spirits AND a pair of Aerosoles, they may call the nearest nursing home to come pick up their escapee.
Posted by Goob at 11:26 AM
Thursday, April 2, 2009
I have long been aware that I use my children as a security blanket. In just about any situation that I don't feel quite comfortable, I can pick up a child and entertain him or her and feel just fine. Tending to my children gets me out of interacting as Lisa and gets me an in with other mom's who are feeling the same way (which is "I might not be interesting enough for these people, so I'm going to pretend my children can't be left alone, when in fact I just don't want to feel inadequate around all these beautiful, child-free, world-traveling, dressed to the nines people who believe they truly ARE the world's most interesting people.) Children draw us together, make us feel adequate (and even sometimes, simoultaneously INadequate). They give use comfort, something outside ourselves to place our attention. They are infact, when used properly, an excellent way to avoid all things adult! But what got me thinking about this today is that I noticed in my "followers" box ALOT of profile photos that are either entirely composed of children, or, feature children next to various adults. So, I am drawing the conclusion that I am not the only mother who uses her children to protect herself from social discomfort. Am I wrong?
Posted by Goob at 9:33 AM
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Fully an hour before I was comitted to rising out of my bed this morning, those adorable little peepers that sit outside my window in a nearby tree began singing what I'm sure they believed to be a cheerful song. Paying homage to the rising sun was not on my "to-do" list today however, and I'll admit to feeling just a bit cranky when I rolled over in bed awakened by the sound of these happy little birdies. I checked the clock and realized I had only 15 minutes before JP would walk in the door from a long night at work. So I tossed and turned, trying to stay warm under the thin blanket and sheet we've adopted as bedcovers ever since we realized we could no longer live with the bedspread which would never stay in place, straighten nicely, or even pretend to look good. My mind immediately went to various topics of grumpiness, none of which are very important, certainly nothing to literally lose sleep over. I heard JP walk in the door, and maybe he just makes me happy, I don't know, but I decided to put my grumpy self under the covers and wait until I was certain he was standing at the side of the bed. Then just before he tried to ever so quietly sneak into bed without waking me, I popped up and yelled "Surprise!" (wearing mismatched flannel pajamas and yesterday's make-up smudged around my eyes...) Needless to say that drew a few laughs. I pretended to be in a good mood for a few minutes longer and before I knew it I WAS in a good mood! I'm still tired, I'm still thinking about going back to bed, but at least I am no longer feeling homicidal towards any of God's precious pigeons. (or quail, or dove, or whatever else ridiculously happy and loud bird is out there in that tree.)
Posted by Goob at 7:51 AM