I recently saw a picture posted on another mom’s blog (she’s hilarious, go read!) of a small trampoline that still has all the safety features of a full sized trampoline. It is a wonder we ever survived childhood, right? I can remember jumping out of my friend’s treehouse about seven feet down on to her trampoline. Which was, of course, on a cement patio. When we discuss our children, people often refer to their child as “a climber,” meaning said child will use any and all measures to gain access to a higher position within the room. I have a friend who found her son on top of the fridge in his Halloween candy. He had used the handles of the drawers like a ladder. Climbers can be very resourceful and creative. Then there are those of us who have “jumpers.” I have a jumper. As early as I can remember he liked to be bounced. If I walked with a gentle bounce in my step when he was an infant, he would fall asleep. When he got old enough that we didn’t worry about “shaking” him, he would delight at being bounced on your knee. He loved to put his fist against his mouth so that when you bounced him, he sounded like a little indian (if you pat your mouth while making a continuous sound). I borrowed a jumperoo from a friend when he was about seven months old. I felt like I had struck gold. He would jump until his little legs couldn’t move anymore. On numerous occasions, I have said “I wish they made a jumperoo for toddlers, it might help expel some of this seemingly endless energy.” Found it. It is a little big, but we will keep it indoors for the summer to cut down on the possibility of a heat stroke! Appropriately, his shirt says “I do all my own stunts.”

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We went to the library yesterday and checked out several books. This happened to be one of them. I’m now on the search to find it for our personal collection. It is adorable! I giggled through the whole thing. It has a song included, cute illustrations and a sing-songy rhythm to the story. If you get the chance, check it out! We have it on the Shelfari Wishlist now!

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Dear Unwanted House Guests,

Just because I titled this entry as a Friends episode does not in any way imply that you are my friends. I don’t like you. You are not welcome. Pack your bags and get out. I am grown woman, hear me squeal. From atop my chair where I am standing.

Respectfully,
The New Owner of the Home

See, I told you I’d have something interesting to say by today. As I’ve said before, I am trying to switch to natural cleaners, so when it came to the unwanted house guests, I felt the same. Shortly after we moved in, I noticed several ants coming in through a vent or a window, not sure which. Those little teeny tiny black ants. Not okay, but if I had to choose one home invader, this would be it. They are annoying, pesky, and persistent little buggers. So to my beloved computer I went in search of a natural ant remedy. Well turns out there is a laundry list of this that ants do not care for. Cinnamon being one of them. Terrific I thought! I can sprinkle this around the vent, block the entry and freshen the room all at the same time. I admit, I was beaming with green-ness. Money saved: check. Better for the environment: check. Not gonna hurt the kid if he gets into it: check check. I cornered an ant for a cruel experiment, everywhere he turned, I tapped my cinnamon shaker in his path, and he avoided it like the plague until I had him encircled at which point he scampered over the cinnamon as quickly as possible and high tailed it back where he came from. Or I might have killed him, I forget. ANYway, like I said, I was so busy patting myself on the back for a job well done, that it wasn’t until a few days later until I noticed a whole herd flocking to the drips of sugared frosting in the bottom of the dishwasher like party goers to a spiked punch bowl. It was like a mosh pit around a dime sized spot below the plates. Disgusted, I ran the dishwasher on rinse, reinspected, then washed the dishes on ridiculously high settings like high temp wash, sanitize, etc. I grabbed my cinnamon shaker again, and laid down a solid line around the vent and the side door near the dishwasher. Once again, job well done. Until I noticed the damn marching parade on the counter yesterday! Okay, you win, I am officially annoyed with your presence. Get out, get out, GET OUT! Back to the internet I went. I’m no longer satisfied with a deterrent, it is time to get down and dirty. I searched for natural ant killer. I admit, I was about to send hubby to Walmart for the black market stuff when I saw a recipe to try first. I dumped some sugar and warm water in a cup lid, then plopped in a heaping spoon of Borax (one of my new cleaning agents, the one that actually is found on the laundry aisles in most grocery stores, however I am still on my quest for washing soda). I mixed up my lethal combination an then spilled it right into the middle of the parade. The marching came to a screeching stop. I watched a few line up to take the forbidden fruit, then went and brushed Caleb’s teeth. When I returned a few minutes later, there were more like ten ants there. I put Caleb to bed, and upon my return, found more like 40 or 50. We watched a movie, and by the end of the movie, there were only a few stragglers. So I can only assume that they were drawn to it, drank it, and then went off, to …well you know…die! Wanna know what happens? I know you do. According to Yahoo Answers, I say this so that I can blame them if someone smart comes along and says that’s horse manure, it doesn’t happen like that…so according to Yahoo Answers…you ready for this? It gives em gas. Yep. That’s it. Turns out ants can’t fart. Hey! There’s something you needed to know! Scott came by to inspect the progress at one point last night and said, “I see no exploded little ant parts on the floor.” We are sick, twisted individuals. So once again, I am patting myself on the back for being green. I *think* I saved myself some money too, because the ant bait I was about to send hubby to the store for…the main ingredient is none other than boric acid mixed with a sweetener to attract the ants.

So moving along, because, yes, this is titled bugs. As in the plural. Reinspection this morning only turned up a lonely one or two ants looking around like ‘where’d everybody go?’ We headed off to the library, which is totally irrelevant to the rest of the story, but I thought I’d throw it in there to update you on yesterday’s crucial post. I know you were on the edge of your seat. Turns out the do have a story time. It was, of course, yesterday. But that kind of works out because we acquired ourselves a library card, and checked out several books today. We will have them for a week, and can return them next Tuesday at story time, then get some more afterwards. I was pleasantly surprised by the library, they had a separate children’s room downstairs, which is sort of nice to not feel like you are interrupting others when you tell your toddler to whisper for the 57th time. In five minutes. We returned home just in time for lunch before naptime. As Caleb was finishing up his yogurt, I was unloading the dishwasher. I went to put something away in the laundry closet, which is only a few feet from the kitchen table. When I opened the door, I shrieked, jumped back, clutched my chest and gasped. In that order. Staring back at me was this:

Yes, HE HOPS.

I cropped the picture as such to give you a perspective of his ridiculously long antennae. As you can see, it goes all the way to the edge up the picture, at least twice as long as the bug itself. I assure you this was taken from several feet away with a zoom lens, the full sized picture makes him look like a speck on the concrete.  But he was big.  Seriously.  I doubt his body and legs would have fit on a half dollar.  And once you get above dime sized in my bug book…you’re too big and icky for me to kill with out a lot of drama and freaking.

Seconds after spotting him, the phone rings.  It’s my mom.  Of course.  I’m flipping out, and honestly wondering to myself if I can convince my husband to drive 40 minutes home from work to get it for me.  Probably not.  Plan B.  “Well can’t you just scoop him up in a paper towel and take him outside?”  Uhm.  Nooooo!  My mom is full of wonderful suggestions.  “Well what does he look like?  How many legs does he have?  Pinchers?  What color is he?  What shape is his body?  Hold on, let me get my bug pocket dictionary.”  Uhhh, I’m havin a little crisis here!  I don’t care what he is, I just want him back outside where he belongs!  You know, this is the type of bug that is too big to squish, I mean you don’t want to have have to break out the touch up paint for the wall!  Ew, ew, ew.  So I’m flailing around the kitchen, Caleb is being loud as usual, singing to his food, about his food, about the bug, giving a running commentary of the events and shrieking every time I shriek.  Finally I decide on a recently washed JIF peanut butter jar waiting to be recycled.  Of course the damn this is perched on uneven woodwork.  So I pull up a chair to climb in.  Why, I don’t know.  Perhaps, despite the fact that I’m 200 times his size, I need to feel superior to the bug in height, since he was clinging to the woodwork about eye level.  I also need to have a prepared launching pad, should he feel the urge to jump at me.  If he jumps and lands on the floor, I’m prepared too, since I’m perched in the chair.  Really, the chair was just the safest bet for all concerned parties.  “Rachel, calm down, don’t make Caleb afraid.  He’s not going to hurt you.  I like bugs!  Can you take a picture?”  Moooooooom!  So finally I get the JIF jar over the bug and he goes into spring mode and starts bouncing off the jar.  After several tense seconds, I got the lid screwed on.  Tightly.  I showed him to Caleb, who had coated most of his face, bib, and the table with yogurt painting by this time.  “Ew.  He is buggy.  And jumpy.” he proclaimed.  So the above pictures were actually taken mostly for the benefit of my mother.  I’m sure she’ll break out the picture dictionary to identify him in the unlikely event that she does not recognize him off the top of her head.

Yep, it has been a busy day.  Believe it or not, none of these events were exaggerated in the least for story-telling purposes.  So all of you bug loving people, just go ahead and get a good laugh at my expense.  It’s okay.  I know I’m ridiculous.

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I seem to be hitting a blogging rut about once per month now. No good. I certainly feel like I’ve been busy and I should have something clever to say, but it just isn’t coming to me in the form of a humorous story. Perhaps this is the reason why…I’ve only written three sentences and I’ve already been interrupted to deal with a mini tantrum. A demanding toddler who finds it imperative that I attend to his every whim that very second, or otherwise the world may stop turning. Most people who have four year olds say that [age] two has nothing on three. I would tend to agree. If I just had one nickel for each time during the day I hear something along the lines of “I can do it aww by mysewf,” or “I got dis Mom,” or “I can handle dis Mom,” “No sainks [thanks], I don’t need any help.”

We are off to get us a library card tomorrow at our new small town library and find out which day is story hour. Please tell me said small town has a weekly story time. I mean isn’t that like a library requirement? We shall see. If so, I would like to start making a weekly trip to the library to attend story time, then check out books afterwards. Children’s books for the little guy, homeschooling books for the mommy.

Anyway, I’m feeling like one of those boring blogs who really has nothing to write about, so they just tell you boring mundane details from recent past or upcoming events. So I’m going to sign off with the promise that I will spin tires out of this rut here in the next few days. Hell, it might even be tomorrow. You know how it goes when you take a toddler to a quiet place. You usually come back with an embarrassing story…to be continued…

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When I go through my photos from my camera, I often put the ones I want to blog up here at the top of my screen. These have been sitting here for a week now.

Yesterday when looking through the bookcase, eagle eye spotted some stickers that were down in a pack of construction paper.  I gave them to him to play with, and went on with whatever I was doing.  I came back a few minutes later and found this:

Look Mom!

What are the fish doing bud?

Eating M&Ms!

Playing peekaboo, because if he covers his eyes, I can’t see him, right?

We all know what side he slept on last night.

Loving on Charley

Notice anything funny?

Perhaps the giraffe standing in the police station?

I was finishing up the unpacking over the course of the last week, and I found this in a box.  A paci graveyard.  And I know this isn’t all of them.

Only 18 of them.

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Can you see where this is going? If you scroll quickly, you can pretend it’s a flip book!

Some days I feel like doing the same thing.

“Helping” mommy!

Some days I feel like doing this too.

With his hands on his hips, explaining something to me, I forget what, but it was obviously something I didn’t know how to do.  And of course he did.  Because he is three and he knows everything.

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She hasn’t figured out yet that no one comes into a room full of babies to see the mom

I know, the variation leaves you speechless.  Oh look, sextuplets.

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Long time readers have probably heard my incessant whining about Caleb not sleeping through the night. Thankfully he does now, but he was over two years old by the time he did so on a consistent basis. Last night, he decided to reminisce about the good old days. I went to bed around 12:30. After tossing and turning for a while, I finally fell into a restless sleep. It seemed like five minutes later, I heard Caleb wake up screaming, as if he was having a bad dream. I was so exhausted that I just called out to him and told him to come get in bed with me. He never did come in, and I fell back off to sleep. He did the same thing several more times, and finally got up and *RAN* into the bedroom at 4:30am. I swear sometimes I think this kid has restless leg syndrome for toddlers. Sometimes he’s still, but sometimes he will get in bed and move constantly every few seconds, which of course he did the later last night until well after 5:00. He turned back and forth, kicked me a gazillion times, whined because he couldn’t get back to sleep, and turned over some more. Needless to say, I’ve been dragging all day.

I made it to naptime and practically ran to the bed. We both fell out about 2:00. At 2:40, Caleb’s stupid singing potty started blasting a jig from the bathroom on the other side of the room. I lay there contemplating the toilet’s demise and praying to all things holy that it wouldn’t wake him up. After what seemed like an eternity, it was quiet again. I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Just as the thunder began rumbling outside. Frustrated, I turned over and tried to ignore it. Then my phone started ringing. I sat up enough to see the clock, letting me know it was only 2:48. Is this really happening, I asked myself. You know how they say reality has a way of hitting you in the face. Well just then, it did. WHOP. The kid rolled over and slapped me in the face (in his sleep). That’s it. I get it. I’m not supposed to be napping during the day, point taken, just give me a few more minutes peace to prepare myself to deal with my toddler from now until bedtime. Just then, he rolled over grinning from ear to ear, sat up, and I KID YOU NOT said, “Can we stay up all night Mom?!”

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the movie game

May 18

Posted by: Rachel in: blog, games, me myself and i, ramblings

The Rules:
1. Pick 10 of your favorite movies.
2. Go to IMDb and find a quote from each movie (or write your favorite quote if you know it word for word).
3. Post them in bold for everyone to guess (comment with the number and your answer for that number – feel free to answer as many as you know!).
4. Remove bold and put quote in italics when someone guesses correctly, and put who guessed it and the movie.
5. No Googling or IMDb-ing. That’s cheating and that’s no fun!
6. Feel free to join in and post your own (and let me know if you do!)!

1. “This old gypsy woman once told me that if you jump backwards nine times before the sun comes up you won’t be pregnant. Well, I jumped so far I had to take a bus back and then I had twins.” Where the Heart Is – Andrea

2. “What I want from each and every one of you is a hard-target search of every gas station, residence, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse in that area.” The Fugitive – Andrea

3. “I’m pleasant. Damn it! I saw Drum Eatenton at the Piggly Wiggly this morning, and I smiled at the son of a bitch ‘fore I could help myself.” Steel Magnolias – Andrea

4. “In case I forget to tell you later, I had a really good time tonight.”
 HINT: V: “It was so good, I almost peed my pants!”
E: “She said she liked it better than Pirates of Penzance.” Pretty Woman – Amber

5. “Oh come on. You haven’t even tried donuts yet. You wanna store some fat, that is the way to store some fat, you’ll be sweating through the winter.”
HINT: “Do you wanna help me find my nuts?”
BIGGER HINT: This movie is very popular at our house right now, and I have mentioned it several times in the last few months! Over the Hedge – Amber

6. “Seeing is believing, but sometimes the most real things in the world are the things we can’t see.”
HINT: “ The thing about trains… it doesn’t matter where they’re going. What matters is deciding to get on.” Polar Express – Amber

7. P: “G*** Honey, how are you doing?”
G: “Oh great, considering I desecrated your Grandma’s remains, found out you were engaged, and had your Father ask me to milk him.” – Meet the Parents – Andrea

8. “Only one thing in the world could’ve dragged me away from the soft glow of electric sex gleaming in the window.” – A Christmas Story – Andrea

9. “I’m giving thanks that we don’t have to go through this for another year. Except we do, because those bastards went and put Christmas right in the middle, just to punish us.”
 HINT: G:<after an embarrasing moment> “So how fast can this thing go Tommy?”
T: “Like the wind baby”
Amber, you know this one! Yes! Home For the Holidays (if you haven’t seen this one, you need to watch it this Thanksgiving!) – Amber

10. “Are you telling me she’s the only one here? Nobody else? No aunts or cousins or uncles or anybody like that? A butler, security guard, something?”
“Nu-uuh”
“Does your Daddy have a safe?” Bad Santa – Amber

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