Frannie Fires Back

Could we put the Real back in Real Estate?

2012-01-27T16:00:00.000-05:00

You've all seen the inevitable post about words bloggers don't like, 'moist' seems to be very popular. I must admit I'm not a fan of that one either, but I have a different set of words I'm beginning to hate.

Real Estate terms.

Yup, house hunting has begun and I'm already reaalllyyyy disenchanted with the scene.

Let's start with...

Gleaming, as in gleaming hardwood floors. I've seen this in literally every.single.effing.listing, from cheapest fixer-uppers to the ridiculously huge. Honestly, my dog would love it if there was some carpet in the new place, he hates the hardwood floors in our current house, so much so, that it makes his fur fall out. No, I am not joking. I refer to myself as She Who Must Vacuum All the Time as a result of his floor affliction.

Sprawling. When I think of sprawling, I think of the mountain scene in the Sound of Music where Julie Andrews is spinning in a circle. A 14' x 12' space is not sprawling, it's the size a shed. I'm almost certain that the pictures of some of these places where taken with a zoom lens, through an open window whilst standing on the front lawn, in an effort to make them look larger.

Priced to Sell, um yeah. That just makes me nervous. If you don't think it's worth it, why am I ever going to think it's worth it? Just tell me what it costs and let's get down to business. I don't haggle well.

Charming. Translation, decorated circa 1982 using way too many DIY programming suggestions.

So, tomorrow I'm visiting the first house on my list and ironically the description reads...

This charming must-see property is priced to sell, well below market value. It includes gleaming hardwoods throughout, a sprawling floor plan with a flat yard...

Yeah. I know, I was grinding my teeth too.

The first words out of my dad's mouth were, 'What's wrong with it? It should cost more.'

My thoughts exactly.

I'll bet there's a chalk outline of a body in the basement.

I Smell a Rat or There's an App for That

2012-01-14T07:00:00.000-05:00

The Littlest Kid and I are playing Words with Friends, I'm fairly good at this game but let's look at the progress of our first game. The BLUE words are his, the BLACK are mine.

It started with HYPHAE,

followed by KIDDIES,

OTIOUSELY,

SHAWN,

JOHNBOAT,

FLOUNCE,

ZEIN,

TELERANS,

PELITE,

AWE,

SMOGS,

DOGE,

CABOB,

TINEID,

VARVE,

QI

Currently our score is 421 him, 245 moi. And we're only half finished.

Someone is chhhhhheeeaaatttiiinnnnggggg. Although if he's not he's got a lot of explaining to do.

When are signups for the National Spelling Bee?

Back to Normal

2012-01-13T07:47:00.000-05:00

Everyone loves gossip, at least the spike in my readership over the past few days says so, but sadly 'Those Who Will Never Be Spoken of Again' just aren't worth another post.

So since my previous post was a break from my usual funny I'll try to catch everyone up on what's been going on. I'm sure there are people, and you know who you are, that would love for me to take down the previous post bbuuuttttt I'm not gonna. The best I can do is not link to it here but that's really all of my good will you're going to get.

Operation Million Dollar Smile is back on track and thankfully progressing without incident. We've moved on to calling it Operation Delta. The wire connecting the dots in The Kid's mouth looks a triangle. I'll try and snap a pic over the weekend. (He hates posing like a trained pony but he loves me, so pic to be posted.)

I had a job interview this week so everyone cross their fingers. It went well and I feel confident I've made it to the second round. Honestly this job search thing is like being a contestant on the Price Is Right. I just dated myself didn't I?

Anywho,

This past weekend I embraced my inner Jew and made a brisket for the first time in the new Le Creuset pot my parents gave me. Oh My Gawd, it was so good I want to convert. I don't know why I never tried to make one sooner.

Me to the Kid: Did you see my new pot? My brisket making pot?

Kid (full of sarcasm): Yes, I see your pot. Don't you remember I carried it around the mall with Grampy? Do you have any idea how much that thing weighs?

Me: Now that you mention it, I vaguely recall talk of your carrying my pot.

Kid: Yeah, well, it's heavy. And right now it's empty.

Me: Are you saying you want me to cook more brisket?

Kid: Yes. Yes, I am.

Things are totally back to normal.

Privacy. Or lack there of or too much of or just grow up.

2012-01-09T14:01:00.001-05:00

Normally I'm all PC and such around here. I don't use real names, even my own, and I try to keep it fairly clean with a minimal amount of bitching, but today I'm going to make an exception:

Disclaimer: DAWN get your scrawny, anorexic, fake Dorito tan ass off my blog. You're violating my privacy (based on your definition) and SHUT THE FUCK UP! But if you choose to keep reading you're gonna love what your kid said about you.

Anyone else feel better? Yeah, me too. So as I was saying, this my blog and I'll say whatever the hell I like. And, you know, since it's PUBLIC I expect not everyone will give a crap about what I have to say but since I put it out there I can't really complain if you do have an opinion.

Privacy to me is something that is known only to yourself. Private thoughts, private musings, private time, whatever.

Public things, are for EVERYONE. Public blogs, public Twitter, public bathrooms. You see where I'm going right? If it's PUBLIC that means that there is no expectation of PRIVACY.

PUBLIC is not PRIVATE.

Let's get right to the problem and why I'm pissed....

When Oldest Child A decides that she's going to post:

The whore just made me breakfast...Never going to let that happen again.

to her very PUBLIC twitter account and then feigns shock and outrage (at the invasion of her PUBLIC twitter account) that it's not what she meant.

Really?

How many other ways would you take it?

Then she tries some bullshit story that she's retweeting someone else's tweet. So, it's just a coincidence that 30 minutes before this tweet I made you breakfast, and you thought this tweet, at this time would be a good idea to resend?

Why would I be bullshit at her? I can't imagine. This is after we got past the lying, the stealing, the gross violations of privacy (done by her) and then more stealing. (Yes Dawn, she lies and she steals and no matter how far you shove your head up your ass in order to ignore it, it'll still be true.)

I suppose I could look on the bright side and be glad I'm not her mother, for anyone not keeping up, that's DAWN. She so nicely tweeted this about her:

Out to lunch with my momma, is by far more painful than getting punched in the face 10 times.

I'm pissed on so many levels I can't even begin to verbalize it but what I really want to know is, if the medium is open to everyone, is there any expectation of privacy?

I say no.

Oh, and for good measure, since this is my blog...Dawn if you made it to the bottom. FUCK YOU - SIDEWAYS.

Operation Million Dollar Smile - The Gruesome Chapter

2011-12-13T07:03:00.000-05:00

Soooo, back in March Operation Million Dollar Smile began. For those of you too lazy to click, The Kid got braces, they pulled out some teeth to make room for other teeth.

After what seemed like countless trips to the orthodontist, he informed us that the teeth that where supposed to fill the gaps in his head were only working on one side.

Oh Christ, what does that mean?

He went on to describe a procedure where they slice open the gum and expose the tooth, gag, so that he can attach a bracket. Therefore making it easier to line up the tooth as it should be.

Long story short, 2 weeks ago the boy goes to his dentist, he exposes the tooth, we then go next door to the orthodontist who attaches the bracket and then tells us he wants to see the boy in a week.

Yesterday we go in for the follow up appointment only to be told that the exposure is wrong. It's his jaw bone you can see and the tooth is actually BEHIND his other teeth on the palette!

I think my face must have said, 'You Must Be Joking I'm Going to Kill You Now!' Because he immediately called the dentist and the boy went next door to have this debacle fixed.

Six shots of Novocain later the dentist has removed the bracket, stitched up the boy's gum, and cut open the roof of his mouth so we can return to the orthodontist to have a bracket put on.

Seriously, I felt faint....

He was thoroughly pissed by the time we got home yesterday, not that I blame him. I told him he would thank me eventually.

He shot me a dirty look which I'm pretty sure would've been followed by a string of profanities if his mouth hadn't been full of gauze.

Random Kid Convo of the Week

2011-12-06T13:56:00.000-05:00

Burn Notice is the Kid's new favorite TV show and I can't believe I hadn't thought of this sooner...

Me: Boy?

Kid (watching Burn Notice on laptop and not really paying attention to me): Yeah?

Me: EVERYTHING on that show is off limits.

Kid: But...

Me: EV-ER-RY-THING, capiche?

Kid: Fine. But the flash-bang thingy looked cool.

Me: Do. Not. Even. Think. About it.

Kid: Kill joy.

Me: My job is never done.

Some exclusions may apply...

2011-12-01T06:56:00.001-05:00

Christmas shopping should be fun, not an exercise is futility.

The BF and I decided that we wanted to get his father the Keurig coffee maker for Christmas. I noticed the last time we were over for Sunday dinner that his Mr. Coffee was looking a bit tired and let's be honest, it's a pain to make a pot for just one person.

Enter the Bed Bath & Beyond circular that arrived in the mailbox yesterday. To my surprise there was a 20% off coupon on the back and the very coffee maker we were looking for on the front.

Nirvana you'd say? Well, not so fast.

I always read the fine print on these types of coupons for fear that I'll get to the register and find out they want my first born along with payment.

The coupon has 20% in gigantic red font followed by:

This discount cannot be applied to All-Clad, Alessi, Arthur Court, Brookstone, DKNY, kate spade, Kosta Boda, Le Creuset, Llardo, Nambe, Monique Lhuillier, Nautica, Orrefors, Riedel, Shun, Swarovski, T-Tech, Vera Wang, Victorinox Luggage, Vitamix, Waterford, Wusthof, or Zwilling. And don't forget Argington, Baby Jogger, BEABA, BOB, Bugaboo, Bumblebee, ERGObaby, Mountain Buggy, Oeuf, Orbit Baby, Peg Perego, Plan Toys, Svan, Teutonia, Under Armour, Uppa Baby, baby furniture, diapers, wipes, formula, baby food or portrait studio services.

So basically, everything is the store except the frigging coffee maker!

Honestly?

This just pisses me off.

Why have a coupon at all? Just put the damn coffee maker on sale and call it a day.

I loathe shady attempts to get me into stores. It makes me want to shop there less.

Anybody else?

Thankful

2011-11-25T08:20:00.000-05:00

There's always plenty to be thankful for.

There's the obvious ones like family, heat in the house, the house, and food, but the ones I'm most thankful for are the things others would overlook...

1) Having enough mixed-family you want to be around.

2) Our ability to all talk at once, loudly, and still know what's going on.

3) The stain on the table cloth that your nephew made during dinner but then you spit out your tea on said stain when someone told a funny story about you and now, according to 6 /o law, the stain is your fault.

4) Your mother making a pumpkin souffle which doesn't rise so your SIL renames it pudding and you all eat it anyway. (It was good.)

5) Leftovers.

6) Talk of trimming the Christmas tree that night. (We're spastic, I know.)

7) Talk of the Christmas Cookies we'll be baking Saturday with all 6 grandchildren, ages ranging from 16 to 4. The BF is bringing the camera, my dad's bringing the wine and my 92 y/o grandma will be directing. Should be a party.

8) That my BFF will be traveling from Buffalo with her longtime boyfriend so he can meet the family for the first time this weekend. He'll never be the same.

And most especially:

The realization that the important things in life don't involve money or things.

I think I'm going to wear my rosary beads around my neck, Alternative title: The Oldest Just Got Her License

2011-11-16T11:12:00.001-05:00

I've re-evaluated my Christmas and Easter Catholic status and decided I'm now a My Teenager Can Drive Catholic.

In case you're wondering in addition to Sunday mass, this includes a Tuesday and Thursday attendance as well.

The Chica has passed her driver's test and is now licensed to drive.

Typing that just caused a chest pain, not because I'm worried about her wrapping her cute little Toyota Corolla around a tree, but because this means that in one year, The Kid will be driving.

As much as she drives like a little old lady the Kid is going to channel Brian O'Conner from Fast Five.

I think I need to find a paper bag to breathe into just at the thought.

Last night she drove her and the Littlest Kid over to the house for the first time in her 'new-to-her' car. I told the BF that I envisioned the 12 minute car ride consisting mostly of the Chica telling the LK to stop fiddling with the radio. She was trying to concentrate.

Turns out I was right. He went to change the station and she almost took his arm off. Ahhh, sibling love.

The three of them will never be allowed alone in the car. Ever. I don't think I'd be able to look the policeman in the face after he brings them all home for taunting the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru people.

No, it's not beneath them. They're already plotting.

Anywho, apparently the Chica's grandmother bought the car from an elderly woman that hardly ever drove it. Although if we hadn't known it was once owned by an old lady, the 6,432 hard candies we removed from under the seats, every nook and cranny, pocket and cup holder would've given it away.

Seriously, we filled a small trash bag, oh, the joy of owning your first car. At least the woman didn't smoke.

So, while I'm getting used to the oldest being able to drive I'll be looking for used Sherman Tanks on Craig's List for when the Kid approaches driving age. (insert sign of the cross here)

In the mean time, I gotta go people, I'm late for church.

But it's pretty...

2011-11-14T08:23:00.000-05:00

I spent the past week in Disney with my parents embracing my inner child. We may have even ridden the Winnie the Pooh ride but there's no photographic evidence so you can't prove a thing.

Ahem, anywho, anyone who has ever been to Disney knows that there is an abundance of gift shopping. While my mother and I were looking for little things for my niece and nephews my mother spied the antenna toppers...

My mother: Ooooo, this one's pretty.

Me: For who?

Mother: I can get it for your brother's truck, Gee (my niece) will like it.

Me: You can't have that one.

Mother: Why not?

Me: You just can't, come on, let's look at something else.

Mother: But I like this one.

Me (whispering): Mom. It's a rainbow.

Mother: I know, it's pretty. I like it.

Me: Have you ever seen cars on the highway with rainbow stickers on their windows?

Her: No...wait, yes. So?

Me (leaning in so only she can hear me): Mom, the rainbow symbol is for people who want to proudly tell others that they're gay. It's kinda cool.

Her: Really?

Me (rubbing my face): Yeah, really.

Her: I probably shouldn't get that for your brother's truck then huh?

Me: Um, no, let's keep looking.

She was right though, it was pretty.

*rainbow sparkles to everyone today*

Wear them proudly!

16 Hours 52 minutes

2011-10-31T10:07:00.002-04:00

16 hours and 52 minutes.

This is precisely how much time we can spend together as a family without technology.

Saturday night at 10:30pm we lost our power.

I've mentioned how much I love snow and winter right? This past weekend solidified exactly how much. (That would be in sarcasm font if I had one.)

It wasn't until the morning when the fun really started.

The BF and I were out of bed before 6:30am Sunday morning in order to get the fire going in the fireplace. Our new windows kept the house fairly tight overnight, so with the fire going the temperature stayed around 60 degrees inside.

So just to recap, we had NO POWER, which meant that there were 3 teenagers with...

no TV

no Internet

no Playstation3

no phone/texting (once their phone batteries died)

and most importantly

no unrestricted refrigerator access

AND

2 adults with...

no coffee

Yeah, you think you know, but you don't.

Do you have any idea how long it takes to perk coffee in a fireplace? About forever. Move the fuck over Pioneer Woman (I do love you but this weekend meant war.) I broke out the cast iron skillets and the camping percolator and made breakfast.

In the fireplace. While the kids played games at the dining room table.

I'm sure if you're a parent you're familiar with Hasbro's widely advertised, 'Family Game Night', not the video game, the one where people actually play board games and interact together. In the commercials everyone looks happy and there's family bonding and such.

These people do not exist.

You see, at our house, when the kids break out the games it's like the US, USSR and China pull up chairs on opposing sides of our dining room table. Bet you didn't think Sorry, Pictureka, and Jenga could draw proverbially blood, but you'd be wrong.

There were multiple outbursts of

YOU'RE CHEATING!

IT'S MY TURN!

I DON'T HAVE ANY CARDS!

NOW YOU'RE BOTH GANGING UP ON ME!

IT'S MY TURN! YOU JUST WENT!

SHUT UP!

NO, YOU SHUT UP!

I do not care what Hasbro promotes, I'm fairly sure the above description accurately describes most family game nights.

At 5:22pm EXACTLY the power came back on. I actually ran out into the driveway shrieking to the BF that we had power.

Or more importantly, the children could stop interacting and there would be peace once more.

Some things just never get old...

2011-10-27T06:47:00.002-04:00

Car shopping with my parents just never gets old for me. Ever.

I'm 38 and I tagged along last Saturday just because I KNEW it would be a show.

My mom's all about the value.

My dad's all about the buttons.

This past weekend the 'rents went to the local Ford dealership to compare the Explore and the Expedition. As soon as my mother had the Explorer in her sights she gestured that we should keep walking; straight on to the Expedition.

The Explorer didn't even pass the visual test. I have no idea how roomy, etc. it was inside since we didn't even break stride on our way to the black Expedition at the back of the lot.

Conveniently it was parked next to a black Lincoln Navigator.

I told my mom that for the bargain price of $68,000 (yeah, you read that right) she could find her inner rap star, or gangster, which ever came more natural. Since women in our family can't carry a tune in a bucket and she could scare the pants off me until I was 25, I'm leaning towards gangster. She, however, was more interested in what was in it. At the end of her analysis, read agony of the salesman, she determined that the Expedition had exactly the same features for $25,000 less. Yup. You read that right too.

The salesman was trying reaalllyyyy hard not to laugh at the two of them, especially when it came time for a test ride.

My mom climbs into the passenger seat commenting that she likes the handles to haul yourself up. These things are important when you're vertically challenged, and we are. When I say we, I mean everyone but my dad, he doesn't need steps and handles and such to get it.

As I'm getting into the backseat I can't help but notice that the entire interior is encased in plastic, prompting my, "Hey mom, it comes with plastic seat covers! It's like they knew you were coming." My dad followed up with, "It's an Italian Expedition."

My mom laughed but I wouldn't be surprised if she kept the plastic once they get it home.

So after vicious haggling with the salesman they bought the Expedition that day, and then we promptly named it Everest so that my mother could remember what kind of SUV they bought.

Because if you ask her what kind, she'll say:

A black one.

The List has returned

2011-10-25T07:00:00.000-04:00

Being home this past week has really thrown my organizing skills into overdrive. Don't get me wrong, if given the proper motivation I could spend all day on the couch with my blankie and the remote for Netflix, it's a gift.

In my attempt to not fall into the abyss that is the couch I've begun making lists on things I need to do during the day. When I was working I had a short list, but those were things that I needed to get done that month, not that day.

Currently my lists consist of things like:

Call the Insurance man - check

Email resume to headhunter - check

Deposit checks - check

Write 500 words - halfish check

Remind BF to call accountant - check

Find Title for car - um, I'm moving this to tomorrow

Read Health Insurance paperwork - check

I did manage to do everything on yesterday's list with the exception of find title for car, but I'm pretty sure I know where it is, and I wrote 347 words (I had to leave to pick the boy up from school), so all in all not too bad.

The other day I actually went to Barnes & Noble to work in the cafe because all I could think about was cooking and doing laundry sitting at my kitchen island.

My loving son has embraced my being home with vigor....

Kid: Can you make bread during the day while you're home?

Me: I suppose you want Chex Mix too?

Kid: OMG! That would be awesome!

Me: Well, I already made the cookies you like.

Kid: Really? Where? (Looking around on the pantry shelves.) I love this no work thing! What's for dinner?

We are so going to get fat this winter.

I've Got an Idea

2011-10-20T07:40:00.003-04:00

Long ago and far away I used to be fairly artistic...I can draw and I can tell a funny story.

But then life and responsibility got in the way and I left that all behind for a mature respectable job that paid well and had great benefits.

Did you know that kids like to eat? Yeah I know, I did too, but honestly.

Gone were the closet dreams of doing something creative and hello, office-girl was born. Office-girl finds office work easy but boring. If you are office-girl you know exactly what I mean.

So, if you read my last post you'll know that I've reached a cross roads in my life and it's pretty much 'now or never'.

I've started doing research online about book publishing, or more specifically children's book publishers. (Thanks Jen for that great article on Amazon.com publishing direct. I'm going to have to look into this deeper as well.)

Ever since we moved to the 'burbs two years ago I've had a story forming in my head that I just can't shake, it's time to see if I can take it somewhere.

In the words of my BFF, 'You are not going to make money right away from doing this.' She's going through the publishing roller coaster right now, so she can speak from experience. All I know is that if I don't give it a try right now, I'll have only myself to blame for not taking a chance.

If anyone has publishing or writing advice I'm all ears. Right now, there can never be too much help.

So tell me, did you follow that dream or are you office-girl (guy)?

Reevaluating the path

2011-10-18T10:13:00.000-04:00

Life doesn't always give you the path that you want.

Sometimes, it's the path that you need to get by and make the best of and sometimes it's a trail so overgrown you can hardly find your way.

Inevitably you will come a fork in the road and have to decide which way you're going to go.

I am at that fork.

Today myself and another co-worker were laid off due to financial reasons. I can't say that I'm surprised, only that I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner. I will miss the routine that my life was but feel relieved at the same time that something new maybe around the corner.

Random Kid Convo

2011-10-12T08:13:00.000-04:00

Driving in the car. With the iPod....

Me: How can you listen to that stuff? Are those even words?

Kid: I like Rap music.

Me: Like that Whizz Cauliflower guy, how can you even understand the song?

Kid: It's Wiz. Khaah-Lee-Fa.

Me: Whatever, you know what I mean. Play the song I like.

Kid: Ooh-kaay.

Me: What? Why? Who sings it?

Kid: Wiz Khalifa.

Figures.

I'm pretty sure my mother secretly liked Axle Rose.

The Blanket

2011-10-11T09:26:00.000-04:00

This Saturday I switched the summer quilt on our bed to the down comforter. This, of course, guaranteed that it would be close to 80 degrees all weekend long.

And it was.

While the Boyfriend was helping me get the cover on the comforter he busts out laughing...

Me: What is so funny?

Him: We just had 'The Blanket' talk at work.

Me: The blanket talk?

Him: Yeah, all the guys were sitting around the break table talking about how it's the time of year when everyone's wives or girlfriends break out, The Blanket.

Me: So what are you trying to say?

Him: This is just one of your blankets. Soon you're going to put that 60 year old, handmade by great-great someone or other blanket on the bed and I won't be able to breathe.

Apparently there was a vigorous amount of head nodding around the break table that every one of them suffered from some form of blanket suffocation throughout the winter.

Me: (laughing) But I'm cold.

Him: Yeah, yeah...you and every other girl on the planet.

Me: Fine, we'll see how smug you are when it's -10 degrees out and I'm not sharing with you.

Of course these new windows we've been installing for the last three days will most likely make our house feel somewhat tropical.

Perhaps I can pare it down to one blanket? Although that seems unlikely given past winters.

Is it Blanket season in your house?

Stand back, she's got a hammer!

2011-10-05T08:34:00.000-04:00

At this moment I'm pretty sure the Boyfriend is kicking himself for letting me help him install the 22 new windows in our house.

Long story short, landlord wanted us to pay the oil bill, I said 'Sure, right after you replace all of the single paned, uninsulated windows in this house.' They said, 'Deal.' So, in an effort to have it done right, all of the windows were measured and ordered by us and subsequently will be installed by us. Don't fret. The BF has skills.

I on the other hand should not be allowed to swing a mallet, or a hammer or really anything heavy.

He's a good sport though. He let's me feel needed by letting me pound the window out of the frame while he stands on the other side waiting to catch it.

He's so brave. Because let's be honest, there's a good chance I'll miss and the hammer will go straight through the glass and into his face.

See dad, he really does love me.

On a side note, I put my OCD to work organizing and numbering the windows in the garage so he knows which one goes in which spot. And then I may have taped a floor plan of the house to the side of the garage with the windows numbered to match my organizing.

What?!

He had to give me something to do, I was eyeing the table saw.

I've resorted to kindergarten tactics...

2011-09-30T09:40:00.001-04:00

This morning I tweeted:

Hey @Hollisterco do a mother a fav & make some jeans that don't look like my kids ass is hanging out. At $50/pr u can afford the material!

I would like to say that we've overcome the 'pull up your pants' portion of the teen years, but apparently that is just not so.

Today was a dress-down day at the Kid's school, otherwise known as a holy day for the private school sect. Jeans can be worn with impunity and ties are not required. Sounds easy right?

If you thought that, you would be WRONG!

For the nominal $2.00 fee it costs to not wear the uniform, you too can have the right to argue with your kid in the morning before school as to how much of his 'cool-boxers' (yes, he actually said that) he can show.

If you're one of my regular readers, you know right were this is going...

Me: Pull up your pants.

Kid: If I pull them up anymore I'm going to get crotch rot or something.

Me: What? That's not even possible. Whatever, I don't want a phone call from school because someone can see your ass.

Kid: But I'm wearing my cool-boxers. (See, it actually happened.)

Me: Get in the car. I better not get a phone call.

Kid (getting in the car): Hey, the windshield wiper just sprayed water in my face.

Me: Yeah, well if you pulled up your pants that wouldn't happen.

Kid: WHAT are you talking about?!

Me: From now on my only response, no matter the question, is going to be 'Pull up your pants.'

Me: Example: What? Your hungry? Well, you wouldn't be if you pulled up your pants. Basically like that.

Kid: You're nuts.

Me: I wouldn't be if you pulled up your pants.

Playground tactics, I know, but really he's left me no choice. That and it really simplifies our conversations.

Random Kid Convo of the Week

2011-09-29T08:47:00.000-04:00

Me: Can you grab the soup pot out of the fridge and put it on the counter?

Kid: Jeezsus this thing weighs a ton.

Me: What? We're Italian. I'm afflicted with the 'Not Enough' gene.

Kid: You made enough for us AND the poor!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kid: I need $20 bucks. I need to pay my class dues.

Me: I already paid that.

Kid: No, that was the $10 you gave me for my orchestra dry cleaning fee, for my tux.

Me: What do I look like, an ATM?

Kid: No. Well, maybe. It depends on what I'm asking for.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Smart ass.

Another reason I'm going straight to hell...

2011-09-22T08:51:00.000-04:00

Text convo between me and my BFF last night before Mass started.

Yes, I was texting in church.

Yes, I am Catholic.

Yes, she is Catholic.

Yes, I'm certain we're both going to hell.

Me: G

Her: G?

Me: I hit the send but by accident. God...We're off to church. Ugh, don't ask, it's a school thing.

Her: I've suddenly developed a nervous tick...

Me: Christ, I know. Some foolish blessing of the rings and some such nonsense.

Her: Is the Fellowship of the Ring going to be there? Cuz that would be cool.

Me: You are HILARIOUS! Although that would probably make this go by quicker. Oh and I'm starving. This is why I sent my kid to private school not catholic school. Gah! And I want a taco.

Her: Yeah, that's a little weird. You should tell them you're a wiccan or something. Tell them you need everyone at the ceremony to be naked or they're violating your beliefs.

Me: Oh sorry, should've been more clear. This thing is for the Chica's school. She goes to St. Lulu's. If it was the Kid we'd be at home eating Doritos in front of the tv.

Her: oooohhhh. That makes more sense. It has something to do with protecting virgins....

Me: Seriously? Or are you making that shit up?

Her: I'm not making anything up. There are these chastity rings...there's an episode of South Park called 'The Ring'.

Me: I'll have to check out that South Park thing.

Her: Yes. It's all about protecting virgins.

Me: Fantastic. If you could see some of these girls...there's nothing virginal about them.

Her: I know. I felt old for the first time this year on campus when I thought all the girls looked whorish and all the boys needed a hair cut.

Me: I just want to scream at them to put some clothes on!

Her: I just had a chocolate chip cookie.

Me: I'm getting the evil eye from the old lady next to me. Effing Mass hasn't even started yet! And shut up about your cookie.

Her: Tell her you're protecting virgins.

Me: I was going to go with 'bite me' but yours works too. God! There are people here with cameras.

Her: Pervs. Trying to take pictures of the virgins.

Me: Bahahaha. Ciao, Mass is going to start.

Her: Ciao!

I had forgotten...

2011-09-21T08:44:00.000-04:00

Last Saturday Raine from Pursuit of Peace and I made a trek to Ikea because she had never been. Ikea is fairly new in our area so it's still a novelty for us. To all of you that have embraced and bowed down to that which is Ikea, that's how we feel about Target.

Anywho,

Raine brought her most adorable son, Ryder, with her. He is four.

And I had forgotten.

I had forgotten that four year olds are curious about everything...and they have a continuous running monologue as soon as they get over their 10 minutes of shyness.

In the mock kitchens we opened every cabinet, every oven, and every fridge. Dishwashers were especially fascinating, apparently they do not have one at home, but it had a handle, so...we opened it.

Bar code scanners could not be passed without scanning something. Anything.

Maps...you must follow the arrows on the map. He held the map, I held the map, there were serious map consultations.

Oh, and the arrows on the floor? You absolutely MUST follow those.

Lunch? You mean they have food? Chicken fingers and fries, by the window, in the super tall chairs.

Two-thirds of the way through the store he was tired, Raine had sensory overload (I warned her) and I was clutching the two pillows I could not leave without.

We were ready to call our shopping trip a success after going through the self-serve checkout, more scanning yo, but first we needed the Ikea girl to void out a few things because we may have gotten a little excited with the hand scanner.

Ryder and I are, of course, BFF's now and I've been invited over to play Sponge Bob games.

All because I had forgotten how easy it is to adore a four year old.

Sport-Talk with The Kid

2011-09-15T10:39:00.002-04:00

There is no more room left in my head for sports. I've learned the rules of baseball, twice. Apparently the rules for Little League are different than the rules for Babe Ruth. So as a parent, a sport-parent, I feel like I've done my part.

With that being said, the Littlest Kid is playing flag football this fall.

I know nothing about football.

NUH-THING.

Going into last nights game, here's what I knew:

We were the red team. LK was #7....

Kid: Why are you clapping?

Me: He caught the ball.

Kid: Do you have any idea what's going on?

Me: He caught the ball!

Kid: Do you even know if it was an offensive play or defensive play?

Me: Nope. He caught the ball.

Kid: Please stop. You're going to hurt yourself.

Me: Can they pick up the ball of it hits the ground?

The Kid: *face palm*

The BF's Dad turns to me and says: Aren't they supposed to stop the clock on an incomplete pass?

Me: OMG! You're asking ME?

The Kid to the BF's Dad: Her head is going to explode if you keep asking her stuff like that.

The Kid to Me: Stick to the math nerd-girl.

Me: *sticks out tongue at Kid*

So anyway, we won, by a field goal or something.

Or maybe it was an extra point.

Whatever, we won.

Random Kid Convo

2011-09-14T08:20:00.000-04:00

Yesterday the Kid had field hockey practice.

Yes, my teenage son plays field hockey, he's always been one to shake things up, as a matter of fact another boy joined the team this year too so I guess he would be considered a trend setter now.

Anywho, after his practice he helped out with the Littlest Kid's football practice, so I didn't see him until around 7pm, when he and the BF got home.

As he's coming through the front door...

Kid: Maaaaaaaa!!

Me: What?!

Kid: Look at my NEW STICK!

Me: It's pink.

Kid: They're all pink.

Me: And sparkly.

Kid: They're all the same.

Me: Aren't your school colors maroon and gold?

Kid: Yup.

Me: Pink.

Kid: Yup.

Me: ???

Kid: I told the coach I wanted the one that looked the newest.

Me: Um, why?

Kid: Cuz, if I have to carry a pink stick, it better be the BEST MOTHER EFFING PINK STICK THEY'VE GOT!

Touche, my son, touche. Always walk tall and carry a big stick. Even if it is pink.

And that is why my kid is AWESOME!

If you give Frannie a three day weekend...

2011-09-12T07:38:00.000-04:00

If you give Frannie a three day weekend, she will want to visit her parents.

When she visits her parents, they will want to give her a piece of furniture that no longer fits in their spare room.

When Frannie accepts this piece of furniture, she will want to rearrange her current furniture so that it will fit in her dining room.

(This will involve help from the Boyfriend.)

When the BF realizes that Frannie wants to move the 200 year old, passed down, hand-made, trucked across the country in a covered wagon, by Irish immigrants, worth a bagillion dollars, 700 lb, Breakfront...among other things, he makes her swear that this will be its final resting place until we leave this house.

Forever.

When the Breakfront is moved and the new piece of furniture is in, Frannie will realize that the rocking chair that the BF lovingly restored for her is still without a cushion and she will want to go to Pier 1 in search of a cushion, with the BF, who just wants to mow the lawn.

Once, she finds a cushion which matches the orange leather sofa and the cranberry red walls of her living room, she will want a nap.

Because three day weekends are way more exhausting than work!