More Scattered Than Usual

A visiting priest at Larry's church once informed the congregation (or whatever you call it at a Catholic church) that "...'killing for Christ' is not sound theology." Well, someone had better tell these monks that before someone gets hurt.

I don't know how God manages to put up with any of us, actually.

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The plumber arrived at 6:30, just as I was heading out the door to Bunko. I have no idea what he did, but now he's gone and Theo just reported that the shower has spit up again. It doesn't look good, folks.

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I have set up a Facebook account for Anna, which activity required hours of first setting up an account for myself to figure out how everything worked. Then I had to convince Larry that this particular social networking scene seems safe enough (if we monitor it). That took another hour. All so she can gab online...sheesh...who would want to spend time doing that?

She already has more "friends" than me - not that that bothers me or anything...

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I know, y'all want to know how my Iron Mom subsistence experiment is going. I have to admit, I did pick up eggs and yogurt and bread yesterday locally. So, that's 30 dollars - still better than the 350 I would have spent at the commissary (I rationalize). Brian cried at dinner because I made him finish his black bean soup before he could have any of Theo's (belated) birthday cake. And I haven't even told the poor kid yet that it's beans all week.

If roasting chickens go on sale for 69 cents a pound, however, I'm getting a couple. I figure that's like Pa Ingalls managing to shoot some game to round out the family diet, right? Or am I rationalizing yet again?

Anyway, someone tell me what to do with a bushel of potatoes, will you? I paid only 24 dollars for them at the Farmers' Market over a week ago, which is an excellent deal in these parts; but Larry doesn't think I'm going to be able to use them all before they rot. So send me your (dairy-free) recipes! I'll try them all.

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We're making progress with Susie's housebreaking: she still poops in her pants, but she goes outside to do it. Maybe I should just buy her a leash and a pooper-scooper. Whaddaya think?

Snippets

The leaves are falling in great numbers here, and the 4 youngest spent about 3 hours outside this afternoon, piling them up and playing in them. Need I tell you that I love autumn? Of course, Susie did have periodic hissy fits because there were leaf bits in the pockets of her dress. Or up her sleeves. Or down her neck.

Come to think of it, I probably should have just kept her inside.

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We can't run the water in the kitchen at all, without risking a tsunami in our downstairs bathroom. Or maybe I mean a geyser. Or some other sort of a natural water-based phenomenon. Larry actually said to me, "It's really disgusting, don't even look." Okay, then. The only good thing is that the flood might drown any mice that find their way in there.

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I'm over at MidCentury Modern Moms today, sharing my newfound wisdom on how to handle teen daughter wardrobe crises. Read all about it!

Another Title? Give Me A Break!

Theo's birthday is tomorrow. I got him a gift card to a fast food place. And some more gummy bears. I also picked up a free (retractable!) measuring tape key ring at our credit union this morning. I'm thinking the key ring would be a lot more exciting if it had a key to a new car on it, but that is most emphatically not going to happen. Now excuse me while I try to scare up some wrapping paper that is neither pink nor purple.

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Larry and I double-dated with another couple tonight. That meant that Anna (as one of our designated babysitters) wasn't able to take advantage of a last-minute ice-skating invitation for this evening. And I am sure she will never let us forget it.

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Shower drain update: Theo informed me last night (right after I finished my post, in fact) that the bathroom floor was covered with water that had apparently overflowed from the shower pan. Gross, disgusting water which was full of bits of old food...So I did what any capable homemaker would do in that situation: I woke up my husband and told him we had a problem.

It being the weekend and all, he decided to just "keep an eye on it" until Monday, when plumbers are cheaper than on the weekend (cheaper being an extremely relative term here). It looks as though the flood waters aren't rising so long as we do not use the dishwasher. The only pleasure I am getting out of this plumbing ordeal is being able to tell Anna that we have to wash and dry all the dishes by hand. She really likes that.

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I'm thinking of having the kids live on whatever food is currently in our house for the next 2 weeks, just to make them more thankful at Thanksgiving. I could call it The Great Subsistence Experiment. I've got a bushel of potatoes, half a bushel of apples, lots of dried beans, some canned tuna, and oatmeal. Also, salsa...but you knew that already...

That's more than most pioneer families had to eat for an entire winter, I'll bet. Still, I hesitate. It's not that I worry about potential malnourishment; it's just that I'm not sure that I can take the prolonged whining that such an experience would engender. This experiment could turn into the Iron Man of mom competitions. "Can she take it? Or will she break?"

Hey! Iron Mom! I like it! Anyone care to join me?

Four Things To Say

This article I plan to file under the category of "No kidding! Really?!" Here's the headline:

Bullies May Get Kick Out Of Seeing Others In Pain

Imagine - bullies torment other kids because they like to do that sort of thing. Who knew?

Not the researchers, that's for sure. I can only draw one conclusion from this: we send our kids to college to get stupid. Because I'm sure there is not one kid alive in any grade K-12 who is in the dark on this matter.

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A surprising number of people are, um, airing their dirty laundry in yesterday's comments. And my friend, in an attempt to salvage her housekeeping reputation, told me today that the reason her son didn't have any clean clothes yesterday was because they all had cat pee on them.

Oh. Okay, then. That explains it.

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Sorry to disappoint everyone, but we currently have no mice and no vomit. No vomiting mice, either. We do, however, have a long-standing problem with a vomiting shower drain. Is that good enough? For some reason, our kitchen disposal's pipe at some point joins up with the basement shower's pipe; and the basement shower's pipe never seems to like what we had for dinner. To fix the problem would require major plumbing surgery, which we can't afford at this point.

After cleaning up the regurgitated mess that was left in the shower pan yesterday, however, I am considering selling one of the children in order to raise the funds. I just have to decide which one would bring in the most money.

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And, speaking of money, how about that economy, huh? Can I give everyone one teeny bit of advice? Stop looking at your 401K statements. It isn't going to help, and it's too late to do anything about it. Just hang on for the ride.

Unless, of course, you are over 60. In that case, my advice is to get really, really worried.

The Morning After

Barricading myself in the bathroom this afternoon in order to eat a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup in peace (while my 3-year-old whined and cried outside the door) was not, I will admit, my finest mothering hour. I would have felt bad about my nurturing deficiencies, but then my friend (of the Fridge of Shame fame) admitted to me that her son couldn't come play with David today because he had no clean clothes left to wear.

I love my friend.

It's just a post-Election, post-Halloween, post-Houseguest breakdown, really. My sister-in-law left early this morning and I woke up to a house strewn with used craft items and leftover candy. I also woke up to the realization that all the fun campaign news is over. It seems that reading about Obama's transition team isn't nearly as entertaining as hearing the fun stories from the campaign trail. However, my day was a bit redeemed when I found the following news report on all those Obama volunteers:


Obama Win Causes Obsessive Supporters To Realize How Empty Their Lives Are


This nasty chest cold that I've picked up isn't helping my malaise much. The funny thing is, I feel fine - except for the shortness of breath and the hacking, phlegm-y cough. But I was probably breathing too much anyway. Can oxygen make me fat?

No? I guess it was the Peanut Butter Cup, then. Imagine that.