PractiGal

Happy Mother's Day!

It was the last preschool field trip of the year, and I wasn't about to miss it. A trip to the farm. In spring. Mamas and babies. All of us Moms and our babes.

My little guy was disappointed that I came, since he wanted to ride with one of the other kids. I'm relieved -- he's ready to let go. Ready for Kindergarten.

So we hitch a ride with another Mom and her son, and I'm ignored once we arrive at the farm.

Until Nature calls.

"Mom! I have to go to the bathroom!"

We made a mad dash from the milking barn to the restrooms, where we found a composting toilet. A big wide cavernous tunnel beneath a toilet seat. Kind of scary for a little person. He refused to go. I insisted. I held his shoulders to reassure him that he wouldn't fall in. Mission accomplished.

And then it was my turn, as long as we were there.

My son breathed a sigh of relief when I took my turn.

"Well, at least you won't fall in... since your bottom is so big."

I might have been insulted if I weren't laughing so hard!

Lookee here!

We interrupt this comatose blog to bring you a picture!

A couple weeks ago my family and I had the pleasure of meeting the Iowa Geek family as they passed through western NY on their trip from Boston to Iowa. We even arranged to have a wild animal greet them in the parking lot of the restaurant! He was pretty tame, so we let the kids get right up close and feed him. Oddly, he did not partake.

I've read Jody and Doug for over 4 years, so I felt like I already knew them when we met.  We enjoyed a tasty meal and good conversation. 

That's a very cool part of blogging, I must say... the people you meet. Facebook is fun with the people you already know. But it's cool to be connected further via blogs!

To blog or not to blog

Obviously, I'm a blogging flunkie. When months, rather than days or weeks go by between posts, you must be a blogging flunkie. And yet, I don't want to close up shop and let my domain go.

The thing is, I'm not in a blogging frame of mind lately. There's a lot going on in my state and our country that's making me mad, so there's plenty to write about. But I don't particularly want to be an angry blogger. I've always written about my little boy and miscellaneous nonsense here. If I start blogging about what's pissing me off, I doubt it will have much appeal to those who've read here for years. So for now, my little space is sitting here quietly, while I think about what to do.

In the meantime, I'm starting to think about sending my almost 5-year-old to kindergarten in the fall. We're having fun together, and I'm making a point of not wishing this time away... Soon enough, he won't want anything to do with me!

What's new with you?

Blogging celebrity spotted!

Maybe I live under a rock... or at least I don't go to the mall very often...

Am I the only one who didn't know Busy Mom lives at the mall??

Baaaaad Santas

Speaking of Santas... if you need a laugh, you must visit Lindsay. Baaaaad Santas.

Her captions are priceless!

7 Quick Takes Friday

I'm following Jennifer's lead here -- I really enjoy her blog. Since I haven't posted in months, this is a nice way to get my feet wet again...

1. I made the worst ever potato-leek soup yesterday. It looks like applesauce and has zero flavor. If I had no teeth or tastebuds, I bet I'd think it was great.

2. Winter hasn't officially begun, but we've already had pneumonia and a stomach bug sweep through our house. Maybe we'll be healthy for a while now?

3. I'm eBaying like a mad woman. Mainly kitchen stuff that I bought cheap before my son was born. Anyone need knives? A lovely sauce pan? Christmas dishes?

4. I have a bunch of furry red toys to sell, too. But it doesn't look like they're catching on! So I'll probably be returning them to the store... Oh well, there go my plans to profit from Elmo mania.

5.No response back from mall management on my bearded Santa plea. Sounds like discrimination against authentically bearded Santas, if you ask me!

6. After years of sitting around collecting dust, the stuffed animals in our house have taken center stage. Our 4.5-year-old brings them with us everywhere. He talks to and about them constantly. They are his playmates. We even throw birthday parties for them. In fact, Ice Cap, the polar bear, has celebrated more birthdays in the past few months than my son has celebrated in his life!

7. Taking things a step further, after a recent reading of Duck for President, the stuffed animals in our house staged an election for their very own president. There were ballot boxes and podiums, and secret ballots were cast. I was under the impression that Puppy and Fluffy (a turtle) were the candidates, so I cast my vote for Puppy, figuring he'd take office with plenty of energy and enthusiasm. I thought he'd be less likely than Fluffy to drag his heels on the important decisions he'd be making. Imagine my surprise when my son announced the next morning that the winner was not Puppy OR Fluffy! The winner was George Bush.

Then, my little artist decided to take on the task of creating the all-important presidential plate. We saw one on tv a few weeks ago, and there was talk among the adults about how tacky it was. (Apparently the little person here thought it was pretty cool.) But then, I'm not into the whole collectible plate thing. Or at least I wasn't before I saw my son's creation. He needed a picture of Bush to use as his guide, along with a clean canvas, of course. I think this particular presidential plate is a keeper. (Click below to see the finished product)

Santa's advocate

Oh my goodness! Look at the cobwebs in here! Time to dust! Or redecorate! Or something!

Ahem.

Yes, I've been absent for quite some time. If your blog is quiet for 4 months can you still call yourself a blogger? At any rate...

I hit the mall by myself this morning. On a mission. I headed to the Gap, determined to leave with one pair of fashionable jeans, damnit. Because how long have I been talking about doing that? Anyway, I was the first customer in the store and had the sales lady all to myself. After trying on about 8 pairs of jeans, I left with my new Long & Leans. And guess what? You needn't be either long or lean to wear them!

After the Gap, I scooted over to the Santa throne. We had such a great experience at this mall with Santa last year, I wanted to see if the same guy was working. Sure enough, he was. He didn't have any visitors, so I walked up to him and asked about his schedule. Little did I know I was stepping into a landmine. He and the young woman at the desk looked at each other - obviously something was up! He'd be there all day today, he said. What about next week? I pressed. Turns out the mall management wants him to wear a fake beard. I was aghast. The guy is the perfect Santa! Real white hair, wire-rim glasses, and a real (albeit scrawny) white beard.

NO! I protested. You're the perfect Santa!

So they asked me to go tell the mall director what I thought. Because this Santa wasn't going to stick around if they made him wear a fake beard. DANG! This is the Santa I want to take my little boy to see again this year.

Off I stormed, to the mall office. I'd never visited a mall office before. I vented to a secretary, as the director wasn't available. Then I went to the web site when I got home, where I blasted off an e-mail to the marketing director and the general manager:

While at the mall this a.m., I stopped to see who was on as Santa. I was thrilled to see the same Santa we visited last year. When I asked when he'd be there this week and next, so that I can return with my young son, he hesitated to say. When I pressed, he mentioned that there's talk of him being asked to wear a fake beard, and if he has to do that, he might not be there much longer.

Then I learned that his name is Rick. But at our house he's the real Santa. His photo has been on our fridge for the past year.

There are a LOT of lousy Santas in town -- poor grammar, not good with kids, not the slightest bit authentic looking. We like that Santa Rick is none of those things. He's the real deal, and he's the BEST Santa in town. Please don't make him wear a fake beard! We love him for his gentle demeanor and authenticity -- both in behavior and appearance. He's the reason we'll return to do our Christmas shopping at The Marketplace.

Thanks for listening,

Marie

Will they listen? Do they care what a customer thinks? We'll see...

(ps -- I'm a lot better at Twittering than I am at blogging these days...  And by the way, what's all the fuss about Facebook anyway? I'm just not gettin' it... Is it just me?)

Wiggle room

Along with all things Herbie, another interest in our house is The Wiggles. Hard to believe I didn't know who they were, not too long ago.

Anyway.

Ever since Melody posted a picture of Wiggles World (a year ago? or more?), my little guy has been overwhelmed with a desire to visit the land of the Big Red Car. Nevermind that it's clear across the planet, Down Under. I have explained repeatedly that we'd need to buy very expensive plane tickets and go on a very, very long airplane ride to get there. And no, we won't be going to Wiggles World.

He's come up with a new angle though.

"Mom, can you find the Wiggles phone number so I can call them?"

I can check on that. What do you want to say to them on the phone?

"I want to talk to Jeff!"

Oh. What would you say to Jeff?

"That's between me and Jeff."

Well then.

Meeting Herbie

 So what do you do with a kid who's obsessed with the family car? And insists that it's a Volkswagen (it's a Subaru)?  Calls it Herbie? And talks to it every day? Including saying goodnight to it at bedtime?

You take him to  Bug Bust, of course!

That is what we did on Sunday. And guess who was there?

Along with a bunch of his very cool friends...

 

See you next year, Herb!!!

Nothing like a 2x4 to the head

A few weeks ago, a pair of robins took up residence above a light on our front porch. They'd built the nest in the spring, but it had gone unoccupied for several weeks. I came close to batting it down before noticing it was inhabited. We watched each day as the Mom and Dad took turns tending the nest. We snuck pictures along with way and spotted 3 beautiful eggs under their careful watch. We became protective, too. Shoo-ing away the neighborhood cat, and fashioning some chicken wire across the porch, so no critters could jump onto the railing and have a swat at the nest. When the babies were born, we watched the parents swoop in at feeding time and heard the happy chatter among the family outside our door. It was exciting for all of us to watch.

It had been about two weeks since the babies hatched when we noticed they were getting mighty big. We knew they'd be fleeing the nest at any time. We snapped our final pictures on Sunday, and sure enough, come Monday morning they were off. I didn't get to see them off, but my heart sank when I opened the door and saw an empty nest where there had been so much activity just the day before. I was surprised by how choked up I felt.

Yeah, it was probably partly PMS, but I noticed some parallels between the bird family and my own life.

It's really been hectic around here this summer (hence the quiet blog). I'm busy running around with my preschooler, overseeing the neighbor kids who wander by, doing a little paid work, cooking meals, etc. I find myself thinking "omygosh, will preschool start up again already? I am so exhausted!" And my nest is changing too. The crib where my son slept when he was a baby is right by the front door where the birds' nest is set up, awaiting its new owners.

So when I saw the empty nest, I decided to hold off a few minutes on doing chores and showering. I sat with my son and held him, watching a video he'd been asking to see. And I kicked myself a little for wishing this away. Even though we've got a way to go, I know my nest, too, will be empty before I'm ready.