Thanksgiving Cooking Disasters and More...

Ahh the joys of long holiday weekends.  Memories made - in the little things!  Usually, at the time, totally NOT funny.  It started while putting up the Christmas decorations the day after Thanksgiving.  I want you to take a hard look at this feline.  Doesn't he look evil?

The boys insisted to put the tree up INSTANTLY after the outside lights.  I hadn’t even caught my breath.  I let them go ahead and they had a blast.  Son # 3 was playing his little music blaster streaming Christmas Carols to set the mood.  The dog absolutely LOVED the music and sat next to it wagging his tail.  The cat eyed all that tinsel and sparkly stuff with ravenous, tempted, evil eyes.  We could see that little brain of his, that brain the size of a walnut, was swirling with naughty, evil plots to capture and destroy the largest cat toy he had ever seen.

So the next morning I am awoke to son # 3 shouting “mom!  The cat knocked over the Christmas tree!”.  I roll over moaning to him to just push it back up.  Next I hear him shouting “OOooww!  Mom!  I’m trapped under the tree and it’s scratching my back!”  I moan for son # 1 to get out of bed and go help him.  I figure I might as well give up on sleeping in so get up to start the coffee pot.  Of course the tree is leaning and the cat is hiding.  Both of the boys wake up son #2 and start plotting to form a SWAT team to capture the cat and throw him in the shower as punishment for this heinous crime.  Son # 3 finds a clear plastic tub and is going to put it on top of him and scoot it to the shower to force him in so he won’t get scratched.  Problem is, he goes downstairs to catch cat.  I tell him no way is he going to keep that cat contained under that box all the way up the stairs.  A minute later he is informing us problem solved, we have a shower downstairs, LOL.  As I hear the wonderful sound effects of the shower and a screeching cat, I smile because…I have my cup of coffee in my hand, and nobody can stop me from drinking it!  Not an evil cat, or a crashed Christmas tree, or a SWAT team of 3 little boys!

As the weekend progresses, I invite my wonderful elderly folks over for a Thanksgiving dinner.  My idea of a TG dinner is crock pot turkey breast, prepackaged sweet tater casserole, scalloped taters and rolls.  I even bought a frozen pumpkin pie which I thought would be easy.  Just thaw and eat, right?  Oh no, not for me.  I take it out of the container and see it’s not cooked.  Crap.  I don’t have time to make one now.  So I whip together one of those cheesy boxed cheesecakes and stick it in the fridge.  I figure I’ll go ahead and bake the pie anyhow and roll the dice on whether it’s done in time or not.  You have to bake the stupid thing for an hour. 

We eat a lovely meal and everyone’s happy, the cheesecake is a hit.  J.  Mom and dad leave and the pie is still baking.  The oven beeper goes off ten minutes after they leave.  The kids are in the living room playing a game with the neighbor kids and it’s loud in there, between 5 boys, a dog and a cat, and blaring Christmas music.  I open the oven and the pie is, well – it looks done, maybe a little over done, but so what?  I think, well, we’ll pick off the darkened areas and eat the rest.  So I reach to take it out of the oven and it’s one of those stupid cheap aluminum tins that’s real bendy.  Nice, with a 375 degree pie bending drastically in the middle.  Suddenly the blasted thing flipped, upside down, well, face down – right on the crack between the door and the hot oven, exploding pumpkin pie all over the crack, and oven bottom.  I blurt out at the top of my lungs “Ah, SHIP!”  Only, it wasn’t, “s-h-i-p”.  The kids come around the corner, all scolding me for cussing, and as they look at the disaster in front of me, burst out laughing.  Aw, gads.  Just what I wanted!  ANOTHER MESS TO CLEAN UP!!  And of course, the boys all taunting me about my foul mouth, threatening to make me eat a spoonful of hot sauce.  Yes, the joys of holiday memories…what’s next??  Enjoy the memories everyone!

Emergency Survey and Other Musings...

 

Musing # 1:  A kids's urgent survey....

Hilarious: At 9:30 last night, neighbor kid brings over a handwritten 'survey' for the boys to fill out.   It must have been an 'emergency' survey.  It read:

1. Name 3 things you need to rock climb.

2. Should you rock climb with a rope?

3. Should you climb on a ledge that's about to fall?

4. Should you bring a younger person with you?

5. Can you come to my rock climbing BD party hopefully?

This kid’s birthday is in January, LOL.  Son # 3 furiously fills it out and puts huge checkmark in YES box and wants to run it back over there in his pajamas.

Musing # 2:  Teaching a boy NOT TO PEE ON THE TOILET SEAT!!

Need I say more?

 

Musing # 3:  What do you find on a 10 year old’s dresser top?  Hmmm….

I

 

Let's do inventory here.  Science experiment in water bottle; colored water and oil; fake money to buy/sell at impromptu "sales" set up on plastic tubs, TV tables, anything to get extra change from neighbors who may want to "buy" pre-owned toys for 50 cents; oh, the ever necessity - whoopie cushion and flarp; baloon pump for making balloon animals and instant swords; a wad of floam; a Yoda mousepad; a pocket Hot Wheels RC car racer; Nerf skin for Nintendo DSi; CD of scary Halloween sounds for spookhouse created in closet; Phiten neclace to look cool around your friends; and a porto-bottle of hand sanitizer so you won't have to wash your hands, and of course, piles of Nerf bullets and Legos.   I guess it shows a person's priorities in life??  Heh.

 

 

 

$5 fake eyeballs, that no one would eat - What gives??

Yes, it’s true.  I ventured out into the wild.  I actually told my sons they could invite one kid each over for a Halloween sleepover – that means, 6 wild and wooly boys – plus the two neighbor boys, so that makes eight.  People look at me strangely when I don’t flinch about this.  Ahhh.. adrenalin.  Just takes adrenalin, serotonin and a splash of alcohol.  

To begin the ‘shop of horrors’, I made the kids vacuum (insert blood curdling scream here) and the dreaded: ‘clean your room’ command, which always produces shrieks of terror and an instant disappearing act.  To make it worthwhile, afterward I threw a box of black garbage bags and purple Halloween lights at the boys and told them to go make a man cave.  Not your average man cave.  A “spooky” man cave.  There is a mini tunnel that goes thru our basement – a creepy tunnel; perfect for a spooky man cave!! 

Excited, they dove into the task, furiously rummaging thru the Halloween box, the closets for tape, push pins, string, you name it.  I bolted to Dillons to speedily nab guts and eyeballs.  Ya just GOTTA have some nasty eyeballs if you are going to make a spooky man cave!  I needed something slimy and hideous...and edible.  Boys LOVE to eat gross stuff.  I had some sketti and ketchup, no worries there, but what to do about eyeballs?  As I was almost lured over to the Starbuck's booth by the seductive aroma of wonderful fresh ground instant energy, a light went on - Mozerella balls, in the deli section!  The wheels to my shoppin' cart were smokin'.  I nearly tackled the nearest employee to ravenously find my treasure.  Crap, they were $5.  The lady chuckled and said, "Well, you got the last jar, seems like eyeballs are in demand right now, guess you’ll have to join the herds and pay $5."  I bit my lip and snagged some sliced olives.  Toothpicked them on.  Now, how to make them bloody?  Gads.  Finally settled on using salsa. It looked GREAT!

By the time their buds showed, the cave and lights were done, but no spook stuff.  What was I going to do?  I couldn’t just leave it, sitting there, lame as all get out.  I whisked them outside to go play football.  When a friend of mine dropped off her son, and saw what I was thinking, she got excited and fled to her house to get an array of spook items.  By the time we hung spook lights, skulls, and polished it off with guts and nasty eyeballs, it was looking awesome.  Coulda used more fake cobwebs but I hate those things.  I have enough real ones around the house to have no desire for fake ones.  We finished it off with some spooky blinking eyes that faced them in the distance as they would emerge from the end of the tunnel. 

The boys had no idea we finished ‘haunting’ it, complete with spooky sounds eminating from a blaster hiding behind the black plastic.…they LOVED it!  The neighbors came over in their PJ’s and went thru.  They were so excited I bet their mum had a hard time getting them back to sleep!  As for us, for the life of me, I couldn’t get one taker to dine on those fake salsa eyeballs.

Despite my disappointment in our guest’s revulsion to my choice of cuisine for the night, we enjoyed a scavenger hunt in the back yard after dark where they all got a prize.  All this excitement led to screaming, high blood sugars, and toxic testosterone. I reached to my holster for the earplugs and ripped out emergency impact gear.  It was Nerf War time, with flying children & dog, a darting cat, an eyerolling bunnyrabbit, and me wearing protective goggles dodging the whisling nerf bullets as I zoned out on FB, and drank an extra large glass of wine.  A Freddy-like thing, a skeleton, Cap’n America, Green Lantern, a glowing alien, and an 80s dude wearing a mullet; all turning over coffee tables downstairs using them as shields and battle stations, forts, whatever.  Most people would freak but, ya know?  I have crappy furniture, and know why?  THIS is why.  I refuse to replace and buy nice furniture until it will no longer be used for such purposes, and children will not eat ice cream bars, popcorn and spill flarp or silly putty on it.  I figure, have at it, boys (within reason)!!  You can’t hurt me or destroy my peace by hurting my furniture (smile). 

Well, they all finally wore themselves out.  By 9:30 Cap’n America and Green Lantern were unconscious; one on the floor in front of TV, the other on the couch, complete with his still clenched fingers on Nerf gun.  The other 3 were feverishly playing Monopoly.  I actually got them all to sleep for about 7 hrs and my house was still standing, and not once was 911 called.  I considered this a major accomplishment.  All the cleaning and preparation was demolished within an hour, but each child needed plastic surgery to get the smiles off their faces as they drifted off to la-la-land.  Me?  Chuckling, satisfied that I gave them a good time.  I am able to chuckle because I have low standards for cleaning so I am not going to stay up all night worrying about it.  My mother always had a housekeeper.  I guess I could wish for that, but honestly I just don’t care.  I know I’d never place at a June Cleaver competition.  And…I am okay with that.  Really.  Heh.

Doesn't Everyone Eat Shredded Wheat with a Spatula?

Okay, so how many of you eat breakfast out of disposable tupperware ON PURPOSE?  This is how it happened:  Last night during music practice, son #3 approaches sheepishly and all innocent looking, with a bottle of dishwasher liquid in hand, asking if he can go ahead and start dishwasher if there are a few "holes" of dishes on the top rack??  (cheapskate that I are, I never let them start a load until it is utterly crammed with dirty dishes so we won't waste electricity and water)  With big eyes like he is this darling child that obediently completes all his chores as instructed, I bat my eyes proudly and say, "of course, honey", and he disappears.  After practice, it's late; I emerge from the basement to find the living room strewn with popcorn, blankets, tipped over cups, Nerf swords, dirty socks and superhero costumes in wads on the floor.  Child # 3 is passed out cold on the couch while sons # 1 and 2 are STILL watching TV.  Now, in our house I normally do not allow "vegging" in front of screens like zombies, but I wanted them out of my hair for music practice, so I guiltily admit I allowed this.  Ignoring the shambles of the living room,  I holler to get son #3 in his little bed thinking he will lay there like a slug and I'll end up having to throw a blanket on him.  As I head to the kitchen to get the coffeepot ready for morning, he bolts off the couch and carries on about having to 'measure me' for homework that's due tomorrow.  My thoughts are, 'hmmm...1. since when, is homework so important to him that he sleepwalks doing it, and 2. why does he wait until 11pm to complete his homework when he implied that it was almost completely done this afternoon?'  He is measuring my arms and neck and legs while I fill the coffeepot, which is a very odd experience.  I get him tucked into his bunk, decorated with, you guessed it, orange halloween lights. Doesn't everyone fall asleep with their Thor helmet on, with their Nerf sword?

In the chaos of the morning for which I was totally unprepared, I realize it's picture day.  Do I have anything laid out neatly across their beds, ready in the morning, like most June Cleaver's??  No, I am feverishly rummaging thru drawers and backpacks looking for something halfway decent.  My kids go to catholic school so a 'non-uniform day' is a major event.  Son # 3's desk is neat and orderly, organized.  His drawers?  Wads and crams of clothes all mixed up.  Underwear and mismatched PJ's in his jean drawer... well, you get the picture.  I hurriedly wrote 3 checks and crammed them into the envelopes along with the lunchmoney I was late for.  I get them to school, pour myself a cup of coffee and enter my usual morning routine of at least 20-30 minutes of FB coma.  As I reach for something to eat cereal out of, not only are there no bowls, but no spoons, no...nothing to eat out of.  The dishwasher that Mr. Big Eyes claimed to have obediently filled, he didn't bother to turn on last night; thus, no clean dishes.  Ooookay.  So I improvise.  I use disposable tupperware for my cereal.  It was either that or a large mixing bowl or a plate.  Then, no spoons.  Nothing even close.  So I grab a gravy ladel.  As I sit down I think to myself....is this normal?  How many people do I know eat cereal out of a gravy ladels and think nothing of it?  I shrug my shoulders and decide, 'whelp, at least I am not eating my shredded wheat with a spatula.  That was next on the list if I couldn't find a ladel.' and chuckle as I move on with the morning.

Soon, realizing in horror, that my darling, big eyed son # 1, forgot his blasted picture money, I call the school and they tell me I have to get it there right now 'cuz the picture people are leaving in less than an hour.  As I approach the security school door, I spy other parents bolting out of their cars hurriedly trotting, picture envelopes clutched in their hands with irritated looks on their faces.  Chuckling, I look at the guy standing next to me as we wait for the office to click the buzzer and let us in.  Dissheveled, with a lazy smile he looks at me and says 'heh, I was dead asleep when my daughter told me about all this picture crap.'  I look harder at this dude.  Five o'clock shadow, slippers on, now you know he didn't brush his teeth...I don't feel so bad.  Moments ago I was grabbing diaper wipes to erase the mascara raccoon eyes and smoothing down my ridiculous hair so I could avoid walking into the school with a brown paper bag over my head with eyes cut out.  And this was all before I went to work. Ahh, the lovely adventures of parenthood....

Okay, I am finally doing it.

Okay, how long have I threatened, stewed, wondered, and longed to start my literary carreer (cough, cough) by venting my bizarre motherhood on a blog?  Okay, I blame the other mommy bloggers.  I have enjoyed them for years, and said, "well, I could do that...".  Yea, right.  WHEN?  Oh, when the house is spotlessly clean, the bills are all paid and neatly filed in an organized area, creating this massive facade that I have my $^!# together?  Please.  As I type, my dining table is a mound of mail, bills, toys, half eaten cookies, a Cap'n America Halloween costume, and my computer.  The house looks like a tornado hit it, but it's only from 3 boys who claim to be doing chores who are watching a movie and eating cheetos; I have 3 phone calls and two faxes to send for work, and I have a group of musicians coming to my house at 7 for practice and we haven't had supper yet.  HAHAHAHA.  Sure, a perfect time to start a blog.   Same time same channel, ladies.  I am just getting started so bear with me.   Let me just grab that straight jacket and I'll be right back....