Weekend Update, Like SNL only less funny!

I am wiped out. If the kids had stopped talking for more than 30 consecutive seconds, I might have fallen asleep in the car.

We had a busy weekend!

Friday night was our usual movie and pizza night. I picked a lame movie and Meredith and I fell asleep in the middle. Eddie Murphy stopped being funny when he stopped doing Gumby as far as I’m concerned.

Saturday Alex had a birthday party to go to in the afternoon, so the rest of us went to Costco and Lowe’s while he was gone. I only tell you that because it was exciting to go somewhere with only one child. They can’t fight with someone who isn’t there!

We picked up Alex from the party and went to afore mentioned Haunted House party at the Museum. Sunday morning was a little slow moving. I left around noon to photograph my friend Stacey’s extended family and to have brunch to celebrate the christening of these two sweet people. If I’m going to swipe one, I’m going to have to do it soon. They are growing so fast they won’t fit in my purse much longer.

I came home and we left for the Pumpkin Festival at our favorite pumpkin patch. They had new activities this year and the kids were beside themselves with excitement. All Brandon wanted was a few apple cider doughnuts. Meredith kept promising him we would get them right after we “went on a hayride,” “decorated a pumpkin,” “rode a pony,” “get our faces painted,” “see the bee hive,” “do the slide,” etc. etc. She couldn’t cram it all in fast enough. (Alex has suddendly developed an interest in roping. Around the house he ropes Meredith, so he was thrilled to have something he was allowed to lasso!)

We did finally have apple cider doughnuts and kettle corn. We were there for two and a half hours. It was really fun and we had great weather, but it was a little on the chilly side. You know how fresh air makes little ones tired? It also makes 33 year old ladies tired. The thought of making white chili when we got home was too much. I suggested we just go out for Mexican. So we did.

I tried in earnest to stay up for the entirety of the Colts game. I was pretty sure we had it locked in the third quarter, but you never know. I felt an obligation to be supportive of the team, so I changed into my Colts t-shirt. That way I could show my allegiance while sleeping. If my mom still read this, I could really give her a hard time about the Titans. I don’t know what the deal is with that team. They have a great coach, but they have a team full of jackasses. I don’t just mean on the field either. Tony Dungy really built a team this city can be proud of, and when I see guys taking cheap shots like the Titans did last night, it makes me all the more appreciative. However, desperate people do desperate things, right?

Half of you reading this are completely stunned aren’t you? That’s right, I’m discussing sports. I don’t know what I’m talking about, but I have a lot of enthusiasm. That’s really what my entire collegiate experience amounted to.

Tomb of Doom

There are times when I really wish I could be taking pictures of what’s going on around me. Sometimes it’s just not possible. Sometimes I simply don’t want to drag my giant camera around. And…Sometimes Brandon grimaces and rolls his eyes when he notices the camera on my lap as we’re driving to an event.

Last night it was a combination of all three.

Our new neighbors are sponsors of the Children’s Museum’s Haunted House. They were invited to the preview party and asked us to go. I rarely turn down an invitation anywhere, but this would even better because I could take the kids to the Haunted House without waiting in line. I’ll do almost anything to avoid a line, including grocery shopping at 5:00 a.m.

First of all, the Haunted House, which is the Tomb of Doom this year, is incredible. It’s done on a volunteer basis and the Guild is in charge of the whole shebang. I’ve been asked if I might like to serve on the guild, and while I would love to; it’s all I can do to commit to volunteering in a classroom a couple of hours a month. The guild women spend 36 hours each during the month of October standing around in the Haunted House scaring people.

I was in a Jaycees’ Haunted House once in college. The first hour or two was fun. By the third hour I was bored and no longer felt like doing a scary moan, so I left through a whole in the wall. Evidently, I’m non-committal in the after life as well.

But back to the Haunted House…the hours the volunteers put in blows my mind. We went through during the lights-on hours for the er,…kids. I’m glad we did because I didn’t scream and/or wet my pants and we were able to see the incredible detail of the Tomb of Doom. Meredith touched every rat, spider, skeleton, and mummy along the way. So, if you want a completely detailed account you can ask her. Alex wanted to go through after they turned out the lights, but Brandon was ready to leave or was a ninny. Likely both.

Aside from the Haunted House, there was dinner, crafts for the kids, face painting, and a sundae bar. The Museum was open too which meant we pretty much had run of the place. Fantastic! It was really funny to see people walking around with beer and wine in the middle of the Children’s Museum, but I’ve always thought a guy with a drink cart could make a killing in there.

They also had a live band and I don’t need to tell you that Meredith rocked out to the “Graveyard Stompers.” She was dancing like a maniac in her bee costume. A toddler dressed as a fairy spotted her and they danced together for a loooooooong time. Then, the bee’s brother Darth Vader showed up and busted out some serious dance moves. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. This is one of those situations where I was proud of Alex for really taking a risk and enjoying himself completely, but I cringed for his future!

We didn’t get home until 10:00 p.m. I told Meredith to put on her jammies and I would be up to tuck her in. I went up five minutes later to find her face up, arms up on her bed, blinds open, lights on, mouth open and snoring. Whose future should I be worried about?!

A Super Hero in a yellow coat

It seems redundant to rehash Alex’s aversion to studying for spelling tests. To recap, it’s slightly less painful than a week in a Thai prison. More than once, I thought one of us was going to wind up in the psychiatric unit. Alex’s reaction to me saying “All right, let’s study your words,” was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It was explosive.

I say “was” in the hopes that this week wasn’t a fluke. It could be, but I don’t want to know that yet.

I was having coffee with my friend Colleen and crying into my latte about how much I dread Thursday nights. Even with new TV to watch, it was nearly unbearable. Colleen has a daughter the same age as Alex. They get along swimmingly, but are opposites when it comes to behavior and academia.

M is sweet and studious, and a disciplined gymnast so I find it incredibly hard to believe she ever gave her mother static about studying for spelling. Colleen probably just wanted my tearful fit to be over, but she claimed they once had spelling test issues too and that she could help. I didn’t know if she was pulling my leg or not, but I narrowed in on the “help” part.

Colleen ingeniously suggested I have Alex write the words using different media. Shaving cream, finger paint, etc. I used to do this stuff with him in preschool, why didn’t I think to try this now?! Then she mentioned that M really likes to write her words in a pan filled with table salt. That was it. It was new, slightly strange, and carried the risk of making a disaster out of the kitchen floor. Alex would LOVE it.

All week I told him I had a special surprise way to write his words. He would have to willingly write his words on paper so he would be prepared. I really dragged it out and built suspense. He wrote his words on the bus on the way home...independently. When I plopped the pan full of salt in front of him, I cringed as he started writing words with hands that have hang nails on every other finger. I grabbed a pencil and told him to use the eraser end. Stinging and hysterical fit averted.

I held my breath and handed him his list. He was in Heaven. He was ready for me to test him in 15 minutes. The child didn’t miss one word. Normally, at our first pass he misses a minimum of seven words. Then we spend the next hour arguing about how many times he’ll re-write the erroneous words. Good times!!! The salt was magic. He begged me to continue writing words and testing him. He even asked Brandon to test him. Oil and Water normally don’t do homework together.

As I put him to bed Thursday night, he said “I wish I could just fast forward through sleeping and go in and take the test. I’m completely confident.” I fainted in his room. For two reasons: 1.) I couldn’t believe he was excited to take a spelling test. 2.) I’ve never heard Alex use the phrase, “I’m confident.”

I’ve tried with every ounce of my being to instill confidence in Alex. He tends to doubt his abilities on things that don’t come easily or might possibly turn out disappointingly. It’s his defense mechanism. I know it well, some might say intimately. Who knew all it would take to bolster his confidence was a pan of salt. He’ll be a great speller AND goiter free!

Soup's on!

I spent an hour destroying my kitchen this morning. It’s an hour spent this morning that I don’t have to spend tonight making dinner. It’s an hour that will be totally worth it when I just decide it’s time for dinner and I ladle soup into bowls and pull the baguette that comes with a big flaming orange “just bake it” sticker out of the oven. (I’m submitting that for run-on sentence of the year.)

I made my grandma’s vegetable beef soup. When we first got married, I was determined to make the soup and collected recipes from anyone willing to give me one because my grandma doesn’t use a recipe. There’s no written history of her soup. After many, many failed attempts I finally figured it out last winter and I’ve made it 100 times since.

The kids love it and call it “Nana’s soup.” I told Meredith last night that I was going to make Nana’s soup in the morning and we’d have it for dinner. She said, “You know what Mom? I think you should just start calling it “Leslie’s soup.” You’ve made it enough times, just go ahead and make it your own.” She’s four!

It’s a good soup day. It’s rainy and dreary and I’m not going to feel like roasting a chicken later. So we’ll have soup, crusty warm bread, cheese, and pickles. That’s what my grandma always serves with soup.

If you are interested in the recipe, send a self-addressed stamped envelope to: 6685 Braemar…No, I’m kidding. I’ll e-mail it to you, but don’t you miss TV cooks saying that?!

When I started to make the soup this morning, I realized I forgot to buy a head of cabbage. Brandon is home this week, so I put Alex on the bus and went to Kroger at 8:00 a.m. alone! I was literally one of two shoppers in the store. There were plenty of stock boys running around, but it was just me and one other yoga pant clad mother.

As I walked in, I spotted some interestingly shaped pumpkins. They were the kind that are sort of squatty and bright orange. They were 3/$12 so I bought one. I have three pumpkins on our porch and the asymmetry was bothering me.

Because the store was empty, the cashier was bored. I gave her the sticker off the pumpkin and she decided she needed to call the produce department because it was not a carving pumpkin. Aside from the fact that I handed her the pumpkin’s bar coded sticker and it was the same exact price as the other pumpkins.

I said, “It’s $4. I’ll save you a call.” She said, “Yeah, but I don’t know what it is. I need to call back.” I said, “It’s a pumpkin and it’s $4. I even double checked to make sure I didn’t have to buy 3.” She rolled her eyes and said, “Well, what’s it called, like an ‘ugly pumpkin’ or something?” I rolled my eyes and punched her in the mouth. No. I didn’t, but I wanted to.

I hauled the pumpkin to the porch and hoped Brandon wasn’t in his office where he could see what I was up to. He loves when I drag home pumpkins that will rot on our porch by the end of the month. He loves them almost as much as the giant mums I made him drag home from Costco.

Have I mentioned my son is a poor speller?


A poor speller with a good heart.

I wasn’t feeling well and went to bed hours earlier than my usual time on Sunday. Alex wrote me a note to help me feel better. I believe in the healing power of laughter. I feel fine.

Today was a little nuts. My Kramer clock woke me at 6:42 a.m. I laid in bed debating whether or not I really wanted or needed to shower early. I am fully aware that a change in my routine probably means I’m forfeiting a shower all together. I convinced myself that I’d drive Meredith to school, come home and workout and then shower.

Right.

As I walked out the door, I remembered I had Mom’s in Touch this morning. “So, I’ll come home from M.I.T., workout, and shower!”

Right.

I left Mom’s in Touch in kind of a crappy mood. We’re supposed to pray for our kids, the staff, and the school. Instead I felt like we were discussing issues that are hot buttons for me. Vaccines, ways to foster dependence on the generosity of others, our screwy PTO, etc. I’m just getting old and crotchety and I think I’ve had my fill for awhile. Plus, there are a lot of kids all of the sudden and I volunteered to host for December. Seven trees and a dozen rowdy children doesn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.

By the time I got home I knew the workout was scrapped, but I had plenty of time to shower, meal plan, and grocery shop. Jill E. called with a better offer. I met her for lunch completely unshowered and with a zitty face. I was a sight to behold, but I’m at an age where I realize most people don’t have time or interest to notice I’m sans makeup.

I mentally meal planned as I shopped. I’m also at an age where I can pretty much do anything with a pound of ground beef or a few frozen chicken breasts, so I winged it. I restocked my pantry and we should be set for a couple of weeks. The less time I spend running to the grocery, the better. We may develop coronary disease from all the ground beef and mushroom soup, but I won’t have to shop.

Tomorrow I’m going to be on the ball. Really. I mean it. I’m setting my Kramer clock now.

We're saving for therapy.

I wish I could be one of those mothers who allows her child to wear whatever they feel like wearing on a whim. I’ve read that it’s great for their self esteem. My children will likely need counseling as tightly as I control their wardrobe choices.

I’ve been pretty lucky. Both of my kids like to “look nice.” Probably because I’ve never given them much of a choice; and partially I’ve just lucked out. Neither one of them has ever shown remote interest in wearing character shirts. ---Thank you Jesus! They’ve never asked for light up shoes.

Alex was thrilled beyond words a few years ago when I came home with a size 4 suit. Recently, Alex noticed S&K Menswear was having a sale and he suggested we take advantage of the “buy two suits, get one free deal.” When I scoffed he said, “MOM! HELLOOOO?! I’m in need of a new suit. Mine’s too small. What am I going to wear if I get invited to a wedding or someone dies?!”

Meredith will negotiate extra outfits while we’re shopping and can break my heart with, “They’re all just so beautiful. Do I really have to pick ONE?” It’s like “Sophie’s Choice” right in the middle of Gymboree.

As long as Alex and Meredith allow me to dress them, I’m going to. I know there will be horrible battles over belly shirts and holey jeans soon enough, but I’m filing away those anxieties with driver’s tests and “the talk.”

What I do encourage them to do, Meredith needs the least amount of encouragement, is to wear whatever they want around the house. For Alex this usually means a high water pair of jeans and a sweatshirt he’s had since he was four. Meredith is a little more “creative.” Her bedroom floor is almost always covered in tulle and sequins. Errant purple and pink feathers make our hallways look like a slaughter house for diseased birds. You just never know.

Brandon is home this week and I heard him say, “WOW! Meredith, that’s QUITE an outfit! Go show your mother.”

I agree. Can you imagine THIS answering your door?!

Maybe I should carry a notebook...

I’ve driven myself crazy since Tuesday.

Once in awhile something will happen to me and I’ll write a post in my head. I cringe typing that because it sounds like I think I’m a writer with a deadline for a column. In reality my only deadline is making sure Brandon has enough clean boxers when he packs for the week on Sunday night.

Anyway, something happened to me as I was walking out of Target Tuesday afternoon. Something funny, because I remember laughing to---or at---myself and thinking I wanted to write about it. For the life of me I can’t remember what it was. Normal people would just let it go and move on with carpool, but it’s driving me up the wall.

Here’s my attempt at moving forward.

Compared to the previous two weeks, this week has been delightfully boring. I’m fully engrossed in the third book of the "Twilight" series, so that occupies my hands and keeps me from eating through my pantry. It also keeps me from the laundry, so my deadline may be tight this week.

It’s beautiful outside, so Meredith and I have hung out it the backyard and in our driveway, “like hillbillies” according to Brandon. He hates when I drag out lawn chairs and sit on the driveway. He should try riding a bike with training wheels in the backyard.

I did a little shopping on Tuesday and fell head over heels in love with a pillow at Marshall’s.

It was on clearance, and of course they only had one. I called every Marshall’s and T.J. Maxx between Indy and the North Pole. No one else seems to have an errant pillow and let me tell you, the crackerjack staff at either retail outlet is dying to look for my beloved pillow! I found the pillow on-line but it’s $50. I paid $20 and as a matter of principal…

In the mean time, my neighbor, who is an interior designer, came over and I immediately shoved the pillow at her and begged her to help my sorry living room. She suggested I paint one of our living room walls a shade of magenta to match the flowers in the pillow. Annie is totally in on my plan and we’re going to see how long it takes Brandon to notice. I’m certain he’s going to be thrilled with a near hot pink wall. I hinted the winds of change might be blowing last night during our nightly phone call. He wanted more details and I pretended the phone cut out.

Brandon’s birthday is Saturday. The bakery where I normally buy his cakes closes at 4:00 p.m. which doesn’t allow Alex time to go with Meredith and me to pick out the cake. Alex asked me to pick him up early from school under the guise of a dentist appointment. I told him that wasn’t a viable option, so he settled for the promise a cookie…with icing.

Brandon took the day off tomorrow and Meredith has school. We’re hoping to have our first uninterrupted meal together since the middle of July. Afterwards, we’ll probably do something really romantic like pick up air filters for the furnace at Lowe’s. Big day.