Showing posts from February, 2012

Not Too Well, Actually....Yourself?

Well, we've gotten into a nice sort of routine here.  Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I torture Rachel by making her stand in the tub and cover her eyes while I pour Listerine over her hair.  She screams.  That's fun.  Then she sits around in a shower cap for 2 hours until we wash it out.  After that, I go through her hair looking for nits.  That evening, I apply Cetaphil cleanser to her entire scalp and every shaft of her hair and then I blow dry it in.  Also?  We strip her bed and throw all her blankets and her coat in the dryer on high heat.  3 days a week, we do this.

So today she says, "My head itches."  I SEE NOTHING ON HER HEAD.  No tiny black dots that are newly hatched lice, no bigger lice (gah), no eggs. 

I have mentioned my bug phobia, haven't I?

Lord help me, I am going insane.  Friday, we will roll out of bed and start all over again.  Someday I may be released from this veritable Purgatory of invisible bugs.  Someday...

Oh, and every day I go th…

Not Crazy Yet, But Darn Close

Just popping in to announce that someone named Denise (who posted as Anonymous) has won the prize for correctly identifying the source of the Cling Peaches post title.  Edith Bunker, in one memorable episode of All in the Family, regaled Archie AT LENGTH with the story of how she messed up the car in the grocery store parking lot, and Cling Peaches in Heavy Syrup played a big part in that.  Halfway through, Archie threatened Edith with I-don't-know-what if she uttered the words "cling peaches" again.  So she resorted to saying "hmmm....hmm...hmm" instead.

Look, it's what passed for humor in the 1970's.  What can I tell you?  We didn't have Seinfeld yet.

So, Denise, if you are reading this, please email me your info.  If I don't hear from you, Kayla will win instead.  She's the only other person who knew what I was talking about.

As for the second Anonymous who commented on my pre-Oscar post by saying, "Are you being silly? If you read a …

Cling Peaches

Let's not talk  I don't want Amy to leave me.  And I'm tired of the whole subject of....hmm-hmmm....anyway.

I've been invited to an Oscar-watching party, and I've only seen one of the movies this year (The Descendants).  Since I don't have time to view everything I missed on DVD (that silly job thing getting in the way of my life, AGAIN), I need your help in filling out my ballot correctly.  The hostess is handing out prizes!  So tell me - what/who should win...


The Artist
Never heard of it

The Descendants
Larry will NOT forgive me for choosing to see this movie instead of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier Spy.

Extremely Loud...
I am not seeing any movie that says it is extremely loud...I need some peace and quiet.

The Help
I overheard a book club discuss the book once - does that count?

Never heard of this one, either...

Midnight in Paris
I cannot BELIEVE I have not seen this yet - I may have to watch it this weekend.

I heard…

Bald Is Looking Better And Better

I had vivid dreams last night that I was pulling head lice out of my best friend's hair.  Yup, my head lice PTSD is in full swing.  Might explain why I spent my day vacuuming the couch and yelling at Rachel if she went near any upholstered furniture other than her assigned armchair.  Also?  I tried to convince her that she would look really cute with a shaved head.

Don't worry - she didn't buy it.  She's smart, that one.

Can we talk about something else?  Anything?  I'm thinking I should rent myself the first season of Downton Abbey and watch it, just to take my mind off things.  After I vacuum the family room again, that is...

Nope. Not Funny.

There's no funny here tonight.  Rachel, as it turns out, did indeed catch head lice from her friend, and I've been dealing with that for the past 3 days.  There is this constant silent scream welling up inside my body.  You know, at the best of times, I cannot bear looking at bugs.  And when those bugs are on my child's head?  Well, just magnify the horror effect by 10,000 or so.

Our dryer has not stopped running for 72 hours.  Coats, blankets, sheets - you name it, it's gone in there.  Also?  Stuffed puppies and bunnies.  Because the look on Susie's face when we attempted to confiscate all her furry friends for 2 weeks was more than we could bear.

 The first night, I found myself sitting up late, running items through the dryer.  I kept myself awake by doing the NY Times crossword puzzle online.  One definition read something like "vodka, Southern Comfort, amaretto, sloe gin and orange juice."  (Answer: Alabama Slammer)  And I, a person who has never in he…

48 Is The New 60

Today, against my better judgment, I allowed a bored cashier at Harris Teeter to convince me to go through her checkout line.  I'm a self-checkout kind of gal, usually.  I mean, that's just how I roll.

"You gave me too much change," I told the cashier.

"No, it's right.  Your charge was $20.58."

"I thought I had to pay $22.09," I persisted.

"No, no, it's Thursday.  Senior citizens' discount," she said to my not-gray 48-year-old self, as she turned to help the next customer.

Senior citizens' discount?  Really

You know, the self-checkout lane would NEVER have done that to me.

[And the 80-year-old neighbor I had driven to the store?  Had to go back to customer service and demand the discount, because her cashier had neglected to give it to her.  "Well!" she said, as we finally headed home, one of us completely demoralized.  "I guess we know NOW who looks younger."]

[Cartoon: SSR Fanatic]

Here We Go Again...

I had an awesome Saturday afternoon, all alone in my own house.   I cleaned a little, I read a little, I took a nap.  Heaven.  All because my best friend invited Susie and Rachel over to play with her daughters.  And then Saturday night she texted me to say she had just found lice crawling all over her daughter's head. 

You know, I didn't want a nap THAT badly.

And, yes, this HAS happened before.   In fact, more than once.  I blame our stupid local school, with their lack of a no-nits policy and their out-and-out refusal to notify other parents when there is head lice going around the classroom.

I also blame the Obama administration.  I pay my taxes.  Shouldn't I be able to live a life free of parasitical infestations?  We need a little Seal Team 6 action here, Mr. President!  Forget those Somali pirates.  The real enemy is here at home, lurking on the heads of our school-aged children, threatening to drive their mothers to madness.

Just ask Michelle - I'm thinking she…

The Power Of The Blogosphere

Well!  I was planning a blog post in my head all day that was going to urge every one of you to go on over to Momastery and read about the Croyles -- all about how the mom has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and there are 8 children ranging in age from 18 down to baby -- and maybe donate 5 dollars apiece toward sending them on a family beach vacation to remember, complete with a photographer to capture the memories. 

[And can I just put in here that I am so impressed with this idea?  I mean, as I was reading the post, I was thinking, "Oh, yeah, they need help with meals, they need help with housecleaning, they need babysitters."  But Glennon went above and beyond my boring daily-grind perspective and said, "They need FUN!"]

So I was really working on that post. It was funny, too.  I was pretty well pleased with myself by the time I sat down at this computer.  "I'm helping Glennon," I thought.  "I might not be fun like her, and I might not …

I've Been To Boot Camp And It Wasn't Fun

A certain husband around here has taken to leaving articles up on the computer screen for me to see after he leaves for work in the morning -- articles like this one in the NY Times which extols the virtues of vigorous exercise, likening it to a housecleaning for one's body.

Tell me, is that supposed to encourage me to hop on that exercise bike downstairs?  I mean, have I ever given Larry the impression that I LIKE housecleaning?    I know we don't communicate that well sometimes, but this is just ridiculous. 

Besides, we all know that housecleaning is dangerous.  Is he trying to do me in? 

Maybe I should check to see just how much insurance that man has on me, anyway.

[exercise image: Mom Corps blog]

RIP, WhyMommy

The blogosphere is but a diminished version of its former self tonight.  Indeed, no blogger is an island but a part of a greater whole.  And with WhyMommy gone, we are the less.

Hug your babies and check your breasts, ladies. I'm guessing that's what she would have wanted.

The Giants Will Have To Win Without Me

No one has invited us to a Super Bowl party.  I'm telling you, I have all the wrong friends.  What's up with these people?  Don't they know we don't have cable; and, even if we did, our circa 2001 TV is miniscule compared to  present-day viewing standards?

Maybe they realize that Larry is from New England and I'm from New York and we probably shouldn't be in the same room watching this game.

So everyone else gets to eat nachos and see the fun commercials tonight except me.  Fine.  I'll just sit home and live-tweet NOT watching the Super Bowl.  That should be fascinating.


Okay, so last night?  We ate homemade spinach lasagna.  Yup.  With garlic bread and a nice tossed salad.  It's not always pizza and ChikFilA around here, you know.

Truth to tell, it was David who made the lasagna.  And the garlic bread.  But I was the one who bought all the ingredients.  AND I had to find the scissors so that I could cut open the bag of salad. 

Take THAT, Betty Crocker.

[Cookbook image: VeganSoapbox]

Did Someone Say Pizza?

Today was a good day.  Why?  Because I found a buy-one-get-one-free pizza coupon in my gmail inbox.  Hello, dinner!

Sigh.  I used to bake my own bread.  And I was smug about it.  Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Then again, considering the 2010 Reuben fiasco, who could possibly blame me?

[pizza image: Vocelli Pizza]