If you read this blog entry from the other week, then you know that we dropped cookies off at a random house, based on my Dad noticing that the dog at the house looked like the sort of dog the plumber would have.
Surprise, surprise. NOT the plumber's house. The occupants of the house stated that the cookies were delicious, however. (The plumber owns the house, but he rents it. So his tenants passed along their gratitude.)
Friday, April 23, 2010
User Error: When TV brings out the best in all of us
This scene opens, as so many of my scenes seem to, with all of us sitting around the TV. Except this time, there is one character missing. A main character. The character who knows how to actually use the TV.
It's time for Bones to come on. I've settled Elliott into bed and am coming down the stairs when I see my dad shaking the remote emphatically at the TV. Pressing random buttons. No, just kidding, he totally knows what he’s doing, it’s the TV’s fault. Nothing appears to be happening. But we all keep staring at the TV, just in case.
“Oh here, let me do it,” I say helpfully, in a tone that probably sounds patronizing but is actually, as I have already stated, helpful. Perhaps I am also rolling my eyes playfully and not at all in a Miss Smarty Pants way.
I push the power button. I push the cable button. I stand in front of the TV and give my parents a lecture on the difference between the cable remote and the TV remote, before dramatically pressing the power button and stepping out of the way to demonstrate…
Well. Let’s just say it was anti-climactic.
When the shiny, black screen fails to spring to life (there is sound but no picture), I shake the remote emphatically at the TV and press random buttons. Clearly, this is the TV’s fault, because nothing appears to be happening.
I turn the TV on. Off. On. Off. Nothing but the start-up whine, and the sudden stop.
Mom shifts her weight. She mutters something about whether I “have to keep doing that.” I can feel her purse her lips and exude misery about missing the one show she had been waiting to see all week.
Dad mutters about how he only pressed the one button.
I mutter about how I never had this problem before my parents started messing with the TV.
Long minutes pass, and I am at last defeated. I weakly ask if they want to just listen to the TV. Mom sighs and pulls the laptop out. I wander off to play on Facebook. I mean, read the Bible. Dad leans his head into the back off the couch and snores on cue.
This morning, I wake up to find a note on the entertainment center, explaining the difference between the cable remote and the TV remote. Except in this case, someone actually knew what he was talking about. In addition to the written instructions, Michael had heroically set the TV so that my parents just had to press one button, and the morning news was ready and waiting for them.
The saga could at last draw to a peaceful close.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.
It's time for Bones to come on. I've settled Elliott into bed and am coming down the stairs when I see my dad shaking the remote emphatically at the TV. Pressing random buttons. No, just kidding, he totally knows what he’s doing, it’s the TV’s fault. Nothing appears to be happening. But we all keep staring at the TV, just in case.
“Oh here, let me do it,” I say helpfully, in a tone that probably sounds patronizing but is actually, as I have already stated, helpful. Perhaps I am also rolling my eyes playfully and not at all in a Miss Smarty Pants way.
I push the power button. I push the cable button. I stand in front of the TV and give my parents a lecture on the difference between the cable remote and the TV remote, before dramatically pressing the power button and stepping out of the way to demonstrate…
Well. Let’s just say it was anti-climactic.
When the shiny, black screen fails to spring to life (there is sound but no picture), I shake the remote emphatically at the TV and press random buttons. Clearly, this is the TV’s fault, because nothing appears to be happening.
I turn the TV on. Off. On. Off. Nothing but the start-up whine, and the sudden stop.
Mom shifts her weight. She mutters something about whether I “have to keep doing that.” I can feel her purse her lips and exude misery about missing the one show she had been waiting to see all week.
Dad mutters about how he only pressed the one button.
I mutter about how I never had this problem before my parents started messing with the TV.
Long minutes pass, and I am at last defeated. I weakly ask if they want to just listen to the TV. Mom sighs and pulls the laptop out. I wander off to play on Facebook. I mean, read the Bible. Dad leans his head into the back off the couch and snores on cue.
This morning, I wake up to find a note on the entertainment center, explaining the difference between the cable remote and the TV remote. Except in this case, someone actually knew what he was talking about. In addition to the written instructions, Michael had heroically set the TV so that my parents just had to press one button, and the morning news was ready and waiting for them.
The saga could at last draw to a peaceful close.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Elliott says
As we wait for Daddy to come home from work.
Elliott says, "Mommy, I love Daddy."
I reply, "I love him, too. That's why I married him."
"Oh, can I get married?"
"Well, when you grow up, maybe you will meet a nice lady."
"But Mommy, when I grow up, I am going to be a dog."
==================================================
Elliott has just been put in time out. Through his tears, the stubborn little boy is trying to think of something shocking to say to me. Out of that sweet little mouth comes his version of cussing, a line from Toy Story:
"S-s-s-omeone's p-p-oisoned the WATER HOLE!" he sputters.
Different day, but again, in Time Out.
Me "Time out, mister! When the [digital] timer looks like oh oh oh, you can get off of the chair."
Elliott matter-of-factly correct me: "Zero zero zero"
===================================================
Describing a sunset:
"And the sun climbed up a ladder and SPLATTED on the window!"
===================================================
Elliott's version of following directions.
Mommy says "How many times do I have to ask you to do something, before you actually do it?"
Elliott, thinking, "Four."
===================================================
So, we get "Go Potty Go" from the library, hoping for a poop breakthrough. We didn't get one. But he did like the potty song. The potty song goes like this:
"Babies need diapers, and that's okay. I'd rather be a big kid doing big kid stuff all day."
Elliott's version goes like this "Babies eat diapers and nuts. OK?" And then he trails off..."Mommy does Gwynnie [younger cousin] eat popcorn? She eats butter in her mouth."
===================================================
Preschool teacher to me, "Elliott told us you're having a baby. Congratulations!!"
Me "What."
===================================================
Elliott receives a balloon animal at a Christmas festival. He peers at it intently. At last, he speaks.
Er, bellows.
"I AM A TALKING ELEPHANT. I WANT TO GET PAID."
====================================================
Age is one of those intangible things. When in doubt, just change it.
"I'm 21, Daddy, can I have a drink of a beer?"
"I'm 12 now Mommy, I'm just going to sit in the front seat, ok?"
"Can I drive? I am 16."
"Mommy, I'm 4, I can have coffee now!"
Yeah, that last one... we may have told him that it's cool for 4 year olds to drink coffee. You know, when he was 3 and that 4 year old mark was just eons away.
Elliott says, "Mommy, I love Daddy."
I reply, "I love him, too. That's why I married him."
"Oh, can I get married?"
"Well, when you grow up, maybe you will meet a nice lady."
"But Mommy, when I grow up, I am going to be a dog."
==================================================
Elliott has just been put in time out. Through his tears, the stubborn little boy is trying to think of something shocking to say to me. Out of that sweet little mouth comes his version of cussing, a line from Toy Story:
"S-s-s-omeone's p-p-oisoned the WATER HOLE!" he sputters.
Different day, but again, in Time Out.
Me "Time out, mister! When the [digital] timer looks like oh oh oh, you can get off of the chair."
Elliott matter-of-factly correct me: "Zero zero zero"
===================================================
Describing a sunset:
"And the sun climbed up a ladder and SPLATTED on the window!"
===================================================
Elliott's version of following directions.
Mommy says "How many times do I have to ask you to do something, before you actually do it?"
Elliott, thinking, "Four."
===================================================
So, we get "Go Potty Go" from the library, hoping for a poop breakthrough. We didn't get one. But he did like the potty song. The potty song goes like this:
"Babies need diapers, and that's okay. I'd rather be a big kid doing big kid stuff all day."
Elliott's version goes like this "Babies eat diapers and nuts. OK?" And then he trails off..."Mommy does Gwynnie [younger cousin] eat popcorn? She eats butter in her mouth."
===================================================
Preschool teacher to me, "Elliott told us you're having a baby. Congratulations!!"
Me "What."
===================================================
Elliott receives a balloon animal at a Christmas festival. He peers at it intently. At last, he speaks.
Er, bellows.
"I AM A TALKING ELEPHANT. I WANT TO GET PAID."
====================================================
Age is one of those intangible things. When in doubt, just change it.
"I'm 21, Daddy, can I have a drink of a beer?"
"I'm 12 now Mommy, I'm just going to sit in the front seat, ok?"
"Can I drive? I am 16."
"Mommy, I'm 4, I can have coffee now!"
Yeah, that last one... we may have told him that it's cool for 4 year olds to drink coffee. You know, when he was 3 and that 4 year old mark was just eons away.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Love notes
Grandma had the opportunity to make lunch for Elliott. Turkey sandwich with the crust trimmed off. Apple sauce. Cheese stick. Cookie. Juice box. Love note.
“Dear Elliott, I hope you have a great day, Love Grandma”
Awwwwwww
I turned it over.
To a page of drug side effects, most of them sexual. Yes, she wrote a lunch note on the back of paper that had words like “ejaculatory” and “coitus.” I wonder what the teachers thought.
Grandma is not a teacher, though, Grandma is a nurse. Nothing phases her. Not toddler poop, not vomit, not even a page full of sexual side effects.
“Dear Elliott, I hope you have a great day, Love Grandma”
Awwwwwww
I turned it over.
To a page of drug side effects, most of them sexual. Yes, she wrote a lunch note on the back of paper that had words like “ejaculatory” and “coitus.” I wonder what the teachers thought.
Grandma is not a teacher, though, Grandma is a nurse. Nothing phases her. Not toddler poop, not vomit, not even a page full of sexual side effects.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
But we have the big green shamrock sign!
When we moved in with my parents, we brought with us a cable package that included phone,which we were contractually obligated to pay for. In the interest of saving money, Mom and Dad dropped the landline they'd kept for 27 years.
Monday night, we had just climbed into our pajamas and gathered in the living room when the doorbell buzzed. (It doesn't ring; rather, it emits the obnoxious bray of metal pieces rubbing together.) Anyway. Someone was at the door.
It was our town librarian.
"I tried to call," she whispered sadly.
"Ohhh," my mom said, as though that explained why the librarian was stopping by at 8PM. "Yes, we changed our phone number when the kids moved in." She motioned to indicate that we were indeed living there, and Mrs. H stepped into the living room a bit. I waved self-consciously, feeling extremely pink and fuzzy in my pink, fuzzy pajamas.
"Oh, okay. Well. I just wanted to let you know I saved the new Jodi Picoult book for you. You requested it. And it just came in. Normally, I would call you..."
"Thanks." said Mom. Politely.
There was a promise of supplying the new number and Mrs. H walked back to her car.
"I bet she thinks you guys moved." I said to Mom, after I heard the car start up. "Maybe there's a rumor going around town."
She looked at me, shocked. "MOVED? But we have the big green shamrock sign in front with our name on it!"
Monday night, we had just climbed into our pajamas and gathered in the living room when the doorbell buzzed. (It doesn't ring; rather, it emits the obnoxious bray of metal pieces rubbing together.) Anyway. Someone was at the door.
It was our town librarian.
"I tried to call," she whispered sadly.
"Ohhh," my mom said, as though that explained why the librarian was stopping by at 8PM. "Yes, we changed our phone number when the kids moved in." She motioned to indicate that we were indeed living there, and Mrs. H stepped into the living room a bit. I waved self-consciously, feeling extremely pink and fuzzy in my pink, fuzzy pajamas.
"Oh, okay. Well. I just wanted to let you know I saved the new Jodi Picoult book for you. You requested it. And it just came in. Normally, I would call you..."
"Thanks." said Mom. Politely.
There was a promise of supplying the new number and Mrs. H walked back to her car.
"I bet she thinks you guys moved." I said to Mom, after I heard the car start up. "Maybe there's a rumor going around town."
She looked at me, shocked. "MOVED? But we have the big green shamrock sign in front with our name on it!"
Saturday, April 10, 2010
The Plumber
So of course, our first week there we run into a plumbing problem. Fortunately, it did not involve the toilet. I cannot handle those kind of plumbing emergencies. It was just a thing with the hot water.
Dad called the plumber. The next day, the plumber came over and fixed it.
Naturally, mom needed to bring some baked goods to his house. (If you know my mom at all, this does not surprise you... ) She decided on chocolate chip bars.
So, Elliott and Grandma mixed up some chocolate chip cookie dough and pressed it into pans.
Soon they were done baking, and we found ourselves in the car, ready to drop off the goodies and head to dinner.
We pulled up to the plumber's alleged house. This is about when I realized that they didn't know if he lived there. I mean, his shop was next to it. There is a good possibility that he would live in the house next to his shop. I guess they figured that they'd know he lived there if he came to the door. Thing was, no one was home.
A dog came to the screen door wagging its tail.
"That looks like the kind of dog he'd have," Dad observed.
Mom left the tray on the porch.
Dad called the plumber. The next day, the plumber came over and fixed it.
Naturally, mom needed to bring some baked goods to his house. (If you know my mom at all, this does not surprise you... ) She decided on chocolate chip bars.
So, Elliott and Grandma mixed up some chocolate chip cookie dough and pressed it into pans.
Soon they were done baking, and we found ourselves in the car, ready to drop off the goodies and head to dinner.
We pulled up to the plumber's alleged house. This is about when I realized that they didn't know if he lived there. I mean, his shop was next to it. There is a good possibility that he would live in the house next to his shop. I guess they figured that they'd know he lived there if he came to the door. Thing was, no one was home.
A dog came to the screen door wagging its tail.
"That looks like the kind of dog he'd have," Dad observed.
Mom left the tray on the porch.
Easter
A crazy day! But I guess it's a little crazy every year. After attending the 9AM service at church so I could serve in the Children's Church at the 11AM service, we made it to 1PM "brunch" (I have a hard time calling a 1PM meal brunch, hence the quotes).
At the Algoquin, chowing down:
Taking a walk on the docks:
After several plates each, we made it back home in time for an egg hunt and 15 lbs of candy.
At the Algoquin, chowing down:
Taking a walk on the docks:
After several plates each, we made it back home in time for an egg hunt and 15 lbs of candy.
The Move
I guess the first post should be titled, "The Decision," but there wasn't much to it.
My mom floated a silly idea by us. The silly idea that we should move in and save some money so we could live in a house. As much as I admit we've outgrown apartment living, I couldn't see the five of us peacefully coexisting. I said no.
She mentioned it again. Michael mentioned it to me. I gave him ALL the reasons why it was bad, bad, bad... but in the end, here we were, in a moving truck going up the Northway.
To Grandma and Poppop's house
With a happy little boy who can't wait to play outside all summer.
Last time I lived with my parents I was in high school, you know. I didn't live there on breaks from school, or over the summer. For the past 12 years I've been a visitor, and perfectly happy with their arrangement. I sure hope we know what we're getting into.
My mom floated a silly idea by us. The silly idea that we should move in and save some money so we could live in a house. As much as I admit we've outgrown apartment living, I couldn't see the five of us peacefully coexisting. I said no.
She mentioned it again. Michael mentioned it to me. I gave him ALL the reasons why it was bad, bad, bad... but in the end, here we were, in a moving truck going up the Northway.
To Grandma and Poppop's house
With a happy little boy who can't wait to play outside all summer.
Last time I lived with my parents I was in high school, you know. I didn't live there on breaks from school, or over the summer. For the past 12 years I've been a visitor, and perfectly happy with their arrangement. I sure hope we know what we're getting into.
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