Bachelor Party Vegas movie download Suddenly movie Today is Sarah Markley’s birthday. Won’t you go wish her a happy birthday? (She writes a remarkable blog called “the best days of my life.”) Click here to wish her happy birthday
. Leave her a comment and tell her I sent you.
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You know that old joke, about the fearful child who says he/she wants God with skin on?
I am so lonely for a friend with skin on. I have so many friends across the country, blog-related and other, but no one here with skin on. I am in such desperate need for a long girlfriend conversation, the kind where you have to take a bathroom break halfway through to pee because you’ve had so much coffee or Diet Coke. I want to be able to speak freely, without reservation, without wondering if my words will be used to judge me or hurt me or gossip about me.
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Sigh.
It was a lot easier making friends in high school and college. Now? Now it seems like everyone is rushing around the track in their own lanes and there’s no time, no way, no how.
The difference between having infants and having teenagers is that if you leave your carpets unvacuumed, no one is likely to choke to death on a rogue dime. And if your teenagers are awake all night, you can go to sleep anyway. Plus, if teenagers are stinky, all you can do is suggest a shower and some deodorant, but it’s really out of your hands. However, infants don’t sass and they are usually delighted to see you.
Ghost Town: The Movie movie After another day here in the house, working, while kids play and bicker, that’s all I’ve got. The snow has melted, but has been replaced by wind and rain and the kids are inside, playing video games, annoying each other and eating all the tortilla chips and nacho cheese they can find. I can’t catch up on laundry even though I’m constantly carting dirty laundry to the laundry room and carrying clean laundry upstairs. When I’m not working, I scheme to get out of the house instead of staying put and cleaning out cupboards and the storage room.
For it’s that time of the year when I want to purge, to dig out the casserole dishes I haven’t seen since I shoved them into the cupboard a year or two ago. I want to clear the floor of the storage room but in order to do that, I need to ditch the toys I stashed there. I need to figure out why I have nothing to wear and yet my closet is stuffed. I should organize the spices. But I don’t want to do any of that if there is a chance I can run away from home.
Shrek the Halls movie Truth is, I feel a little gloomy. I recognize it as a low-grade depression or maybe just melancholy typical to my personality, but I don’t want to do much of anything. I have to work. I have to take care of the children. I have to function, but all I really want to do is sleep and read and eat and go to the movies.
*yawn*
By the way, I read The Tale of Despereaux last night. It was so much different from the movie and, of course, so much better. I’m also reading Ninety Minutes in Heaven
because it was co-written by Cec Murphey, whom I’ve become acquainted with this year. (Barely–we’re on a Yahoo group, but he is Someone and I am not.) Before that, I read Child of My Heart (Alice McDermott) and The Reader (Bernhard Schlink).
What are you reading? Do you recommend it? I think I’m going to read Elizabeth Berg or Anne Tyler next.
The snow is melting and so my mother-daughter day in Seattle did not involve dying in a car accident. Instead, we arrived at a conveniently located parking garage at 11:20 a.m., gazed at the Seattle Center comatose fountain, scurried into the Seattle Center building (such a shadow of its former tacky self), examined the life-sized snow-globe and then rode the Monorail to Westlake Center for a quick shopping expedition at Children’s Place (new hat, gloves, sweatshirt, matching pants and three stuffed animals). Then, at her insistence, we ascended and descended and ascended the escalators before returning on the Monorail to the Seattle Center where we dined at Quincy’s. (My daughter ate five mini-corndogs, asked for more and threw away most of her fries. What a weird kid.)
But all that was the prelude to our real purpose for being in Seattle on a Friday afternoon.
The English Patient dvd Traitor movie download My six-year old and I attended the Pacific Northwest Ballet’s “Nutcracker” performance. She, of course, has never been to the ballet and I hadn’t been since I went with the International Club in high school. We had amazing seats–why go at all if you can’t see?
Tonight, I asked her what the best part was–she said it was when the Mouse-King bit the girl–and then, I said, no, I mean the best part of the whole day and she snuggled against me and said, “Spending the whole day with you.” I hope she still thinks that in ten years. My boys would much rather hang out in their cave with their friends and an unbeaten video game than with their mother–which is as it should be.
* * *
Christmas Day was a rousing success, if I do say so myself. Saying so seems self-congratulatory because, face it, without me, there would be no Christmas. I mean, without Baby Jesus there would be no Christmas. But without me there would be no celebration festivities homemade fudge.
We told the kids they could look in their stockings but that their dad and I would not be down before 9 a.m. We were and it was all over by 10 a.m.–well, unless you are me, and then there is cooking to do. We have a hearty meal, but one that’s easy to prepare, and one of my teenagers likes to cook. By 3 p.m. we were cleaning up and my husband–God bless him!–suggested that I go to a movie. So I did. I saw “Doubt” with Meryl Streep and, uh, that guy whose name slips my mind, but he was fantastic. I said to the ticket-taker guy, “Hey, what are those people waiting for?” and he said, “The Marley movie,” and he said, “Doubt? What’s that?” And I said, “You know, the nun movie?” because, really, did I want an existential conversation with a ticket-taker guy who doesn’t even know the basic plots of the movies showing at his theater?
Well.
I can see why “Doubt” has received rave reviews. I really liked it. (More than “Seven Pounds” which is hardly a fair comparison, but that movie, “Seven Pounds” has a basic premise that I do not accept.)
My family room is a wreck at the moment–I just looked over searching in vain for a good ending sentence for this blog. I guess it’s a sign that the kids here are living it up, enjoying life in my house. That’s fine, as long as no one spills anything sticky. The carpets were cleaned recently and wouldn’t it be nice if no one spills Kool-aid for awhile?
Another holiday over and done. Check it off the list. Let’s move along.
We’ve had ghastly weather for over a week, but this morning when I opened the front door, I heard the glorious sound: drip-drip-drip.
So, at noon, my daughter and I raced to the grocery store so she could buy her brothers a present. (She hadn’t remembered until today, apparently. She’s six years old.) Of course, I need important things like sour cream and black olives.
We have two vans–a normal mini-van and a Chevy cargo van which is 13 years old. My husband drives the newer van to work, leaving the gigantic old van for me to motor around town. I can finally park it between the white lines in a parking lot–a skill which took me a couple of years to master. (That’s just pulling in straight. I could never ever parallel park this behemoth.)
The last time I drove the big van was when it had started snowing a week ago. It took me six tries to get backed out of my sloping driveway and then I slid all over my unplowed road. Truly, driving this van on the snow is like trying to steer a living room on wheels–without brakes or steering wheel. Or like motoring a boat on a stormy sea . . . with no rudder or oars. Kinda scary.
I was confident today, though, because of the drip-drip-drip. I had my teenagers shovel the snow from behind the van. The funny thing was that they didn’t shovel as much as they raked and “broomed.” Whatever. As long as I didn’t have to contend with a snowbank before I even hit the road.
Our road was slippery, but once I hit the main road all was well. Hooray!
The parking lot at the grocery store was another story. A bad story. I had to park way out in the parking lot because it’s not easy to park an enormous van in a slushy snowy parking lot packed with a million last minute grocery shoppers. Awesome, though, because I was out in the world and not at home without sour cream. Then I stepped out of the van and into a deep puddle of melty slushy snow. Pretty.
But we shopped. We paid. Then, back to the out in no-man’s-land. I couldn’t push the cart to the van because of the icy slushy snow pack. Instead, I carried the bags from the cart which sat pretty much in the middle of the parking lot. I hurried, though, then returned to the cart and waited for an opening in traffic and backed out.
Only when I backed out, I couldn’t pull forward because I was stuck. And a car was waiting for my parking spot. I had to pull forward and try again. But another car stopped to wait for me . . . and when I backed out, my tires spun, unable to get traction and I couldn’t move. So I pulled forward again, gunned it, hoped to not hit the car behind me. . . and got stuck again.
After four or five tries and a little Christmas jeering (MOVE ALONG, PEOPLE!) I realized I could turn the opposite way. So, I was able to exit the parking lot. Hooray, hooray. It’s the small things–like being able to drive backward and forward in my living-room-on-wheels that make me happy.
Anyway, what a long story without much of a point, but hey, Merry Christmas! I hope you have a delightful day and that no one vomits in your house. (Huh? Where’d that come from?)
I love this website: ReadKiddoRead.com. James Patterson created this website as a way for parents, educators and librarians to find great books for kids to read. You can find books in several different categories: Great Illustrated Books, Great Transitional Books
, Great Pageturners Traitor movies Witless Protection movie download and Great Advanced Reads.
Don’t take my word for it. Go check out ReadKiddoRead.com. I can’t wait to examine every link on that site. As a voracious reader myself, I am constantly searching for intriguing and addictive books to pass along to my kids so they will grow to love reading as much as I do. One of my sons is an avid reader. My 10-year old is becoming interested in reading more and more. I have a very reluctant reader and an almost-reader (she’s so close!) so almost every category on the website appeals to me.
So, if you have gift cards at a bookstore to spend or have some after-Christmas spending to do, check out ReadKiddoRead.com first for reading recommendations. You’ll be glad you did.
(Yes, this is another commercial written in cooperation with MomCentral.com.)
This is a commercial for Safeway Rewards Card PowerPump Rewards.
Do you have a Safeway Rewards Card? I do. I have one for every store where I might shop. The Safeway Rewards Card lets you earn gas rewards points and until December 25th, you can earn double PowerPump Gas Rewards for every $100 in gift cards purchased with your Club Card at Safeway stores. (You can get gift cards at Safeway for a bunch of different stores, you know.)
The bottom line? You use your Safeway Club Rewards Card while buying a gift card at Safeway (perfect last minute gift, right?) and then you get double points.
School for Seduction The only bummer? That I didn’t post this sooner.
(Written in conjunction with MomCentral.com.)
I work until midnight and try to be sound asleep by 1:00 a.m. I was never a morning person to begin with, but I am old now and creaky like the tin-man in the mornings. That puts the following story into context.
5:30 a.m.: My husband flips on the television to check the weather report. Essentially, it said, “BAD BAD BAD SNOW SNOW SNOW ACCIDENTS DON’T GO OUT”.
6:04 a.m.: He leaves for work. I think to myself how strange it is that I didn’t receive a phone call from the school. This is the first year the school has automated phone calls telling us when there is a late start or cancellation. I pick up the phone. “No line,” it says. This means . . .
6:05 a.m.: I stomp downstairs to the teenagers’ room to angrily plug the phone modem back into the wall. Several weeks ago, I rearranged their furniture and inadvertently left the phone modem plug unguarded. (It’s complicated.) At least three times, our phone service has been interrupted for HOURS because the modem’s been unplugged.
6:07 a.m.: Listen to voice mail. Two hour school delay. Okay than. My kindergartener hasn’t been to school all week. I go back to bed.
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7:00 a.m.: Phone call from husband telling me he heard on the radio that school was canceled. I turn t.v. back on to see and it still says “2 hour delay.” I call the school. It’s a two hour delay. I go back to bed.
. . . now, I can’t be sure, but I think I may have answered the phone a few more times. I don’t know, but at 10 a.m., I came downstairs to see my son off to school. I asked if he planned to take his display board to school so he could finish his social studies project. He said no, he wouldn’t have time to work on it. And off he went.
I cleaned up the kitchen, made oatmeal, watched “The View” while I ate my oatmeal, went upstairs to put away six baskets of laundry, agreed to take my daughter to her grandma’s house to visit. . . and the phone rang. My son, asking me to bring his stuff for the project. No problem since I’m taking my daughter to Grandma’s house anyway. But. . . a problem because I haven’t showered, I’m not dressed, I still need to transcribe the letter written by my great-great-uncle for the project . . . and arrive at the school within 30 minutes.
My weird, leisurely morning turned into a wacky race, made treacherous by the packed snow and ice on my driveway and neighborhood loop. However, I barely slid leaving my neighborhood and the busier roads were wet, not icy. I dropped off the materials, dropped off my daughter, went to the grocery store for some provisions (my daughter begged for hot dogs for dinner), then returned home in time to work for four hours.
I interrupted my work shift to pick up my daughter. Normally, it’s a three minute drive. Today, it took me at least five minutes to back out of my driveway which was slick with newly fallen snow. It’s only a slight incline, enough to make riding a tricycle down it quite exciting when you’re two years old. Still. It was scary trying to back out and I almost gave up but I pressed the pedal to the metal and vroomed my way up (after first sliding sideways and getting stuck a few times).
Then I slid my way out of to the main road which was quickly accumulating snow. I couldn’t make it up my mom’s driveway, so sort of backed up and slipped into the neighbor’s driveway, parking mostly in the dead-end road. The three minute trip took twenty. I was so relieved to be back at home.
I warned my husband when he called from his work thirty minutes away. He thought maybe he’d stay at a hotel–and I thought that wasn’t a bad idea, but he drove home anyway, taking ninety minutes to drive what normally takes thirty minutes. He will turn around and go back tomorrow at 6:00 a.m.
Five or six inches of snow fell from during the afternoon and tomorrow the high temperature is supposed to be 27 degrees–so we won’t be going anywhere. The roads are a disaster.
Funny how the weather made decisions for us–we won’t be going to church on Sunday (Seattle’s bad, too) and my daughter will not get to sing on Christmas Eve at church (more snow predicted for Christmas Eve). When it snows in this area, we are paralyzed because the hilly roads combined with inadequate plowing and treatment become impassable.
I am trying to embrace the jumbled up plans. I baked a double-batch of Chex party mix yesterday–which is gone today. I allow the kids to make cocoa for themselves and whatever kids appear in my house. I am doing my best to not freak out about the constantly open doors and snow tracks on the carpet. The kids love this, despite snowballs in the face.
And tomorrow, there will be no school. And then for two weeks there will be no school. But we have heat and we have some presents stashed in the closet and we have the promise of Global warming which I hope takes effect immediately.
p.s. I hate the song “Feliz Navidad.” It’s playing on Jay Leno’s show at the moment. HATE.
(In fact, she says this sentence is brilliant.)Ten points if you can find from whence it came.
“I’m ruthless sometimes, and only later when I hunt for a white queen-sized bed-skirt do I conjure up a fuzzy image of a box destined for Goodwill and taste bitter regret.”
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