Confession: Josh and I are in the running for the Dumbest People in America award and we are front running contenders.
A few weeks ago the interior light in my car would not go off. As we drove home from a family trip to the Farmer's Market with the light blazing over head, I could see Josh fuming as he drove home.
When we pulled into the driveway, I swept the kiddos into the house as Josh tackled the owners’ manual of my MV, which we bought brand new less than a year ago. It should also be noted, I have NEVER read the owner manual of the MV or any car I have ever owned for that matter. I like to live dangerously.
Josh stomps in the house mumbling words under his breath. I could not pick out specific words, but if I were a beating lady, I would guess they were not happy words.
Pman saw Josh grab some tools, so armed with his blue and yellow plastic screwdriver and hammer, he followed Josh to the dark driveway in an attempt to fix the light. They both returned to grab a flashlight.
The only one we have is a dinosaur one that roars when it is turned on and projects a beam of light about 3 inches long.
After about 40 minutes, the boys come back inside holding a tiny fuse. Josh turned on the computer. After a few moments of research, Josh tells me that he thinks it is a recall issue with the car and places the fuse in a safe location inside the car (the driver side arm rest). He instructs me to call the dealership on Monday.
Several Mondays later, I do call the dealership. I set up an appointment to bring the car in and also scheduled an oil change and tire pressure check as both of those lights came on in the interm. Josh set up a rental car for me because, "[I] have two kids to deal with all day and I need a car."
His words, not mine. Sweet. I tried to tell him it was not necessary.
On Tuesday night the kidlettes and I met Josh at the car rental place on his way home from work. The rental process took an hour. Then we headed over to the dealership to drop off my car. At this point we had to switch the car seats from my car to the rental.
Hell is the only word that describes the events that unfolded in the process of transferring those seats. Words were yelled.
People were sweating.
Stomachs were growling.
Babies were crying.
The seats were installed. We moved on with our evening, which included taking the crew out for dinner to share our frustration, tears and general misery with other diners.
The next day at 9:30a.m. the dealership called and this is how the conversation went down:
Dealership: Hi, um Mrs. Phillips? Your car is ready.
Me: Ready? That can't be. Did you fix the light?
D: Yes. We saw the fuse and we plugged it back in and of course the interior light came on...
Interrupting M: Yes. (in this one word I managed to be bitchy, arrogant and entitled- it's a talent)
D: ummhummmum- yes, well. Then we just turned down the interior switch and the light dimmed until it was off.
M: oh. I will be there in an hour to pick up the car. Did you change the oil?
In the end, the evidence shows we rented a car to get the oil changed and we paid $130 for that oil change.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Can a Three Year Old be Tactful?
This past weekend I was walking around a nearby shopping center with my family. Josh wanted to run into a non-child friendly store, so I strolled around with the kiddos.
SBG was strapped to my chest thanks to the Baby Bjorn. Pman asked if we could play his new favorite game, "Run To." In this game I give him a mark about 7 to 8 feet in front of me, but completely in my line of view, to run to. He runs to the spot and waits. When I reach him, I pick a new spot and the cycle continues.
He loves this game. I'm not sure why.
I love this game because when P runs he looks like a Basilisk Lizard and it makes me giggle.
As we were finding the next "run to" spot, I saw a little person headed in our direction.
I looked at her and glanced down at Pman and just knew my most embarrassing moment was about to unfold in those very moments.
As the small woman approached I saw P's eyes lock on her.
I braced myself, here is comes, inappropriate and possibly offending comments from a toddler.
However, instead he said, "That's another mommy."
Phew.
He is referencing a bit of advice I recite over and over- If we are out and he cannot find me, he needs to tell a police officer or another mommy. It's a good line I stole from a good friend.
In that moment P was telling me the advice I have been dispensing has sunk in and sticking with him.
I replied, "Yes, Parker, she might be another mommy and if you lost your mommy she would probably help you."
The woman gave a quick smile and kept moving.
SBG was strapped to my chest thanks to the Baby Bjorn. Pman asked if we could play his new favorite game, "Run To." In this game I give him a mark about 7 to 8 feet in front of me, but completely in my line of view, to run to. He runs to the spot and waits. When I reach him, I pick a new spot and the cycle continues.
He loves this game. I'm not sure why.
I love this game because when P runs he looks like a Basilisk Lizard and it makes me giggle.
As we were finding the next "run to" spot, I saw a little person headed in our direction.
I looked at her and glanced down at Pman and just knew my most embarrassing moment was about to unfold in those very moments.
As the small woman approached I saw P's eyes lock on her.
I braced myself, here is comes, inappropriate and possibly offending comments from a toddler.
However, instead he said, "That's another mommy."
Phew.
He is referencing a bit of advice I recite over and over- If we are out and he cannot find me, he needs to tell a police officer or another mommy. It's a good line I stole from a good friend.
In that moment P was telling me the advice I have been dispensing has sunk in and sticking with him.
I replied, "Yes, Parker, she might be another mommy and if you lost your mommy she would probably help you."
The woman gave a quick smile and kept moving.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Five Years Strong
On Thursday, Josh and I will celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary.
It's about love, compromise, support and a good sense of humor. We are all so lucky to have each other. May everyone reading this, be so lucky too.
Happy Anniversary!
I just love that this:
Led to these:
It's about love, compromise, support and a good sense of humor. We are all so lucky to have each other. May everyone reading this, be so lucky too.
Happy Anniversary!
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Uneventful?
I have not written in a bit for a few reasons. One of them being that I am trying to get ready for school- another year, another syllabus calendar to wrestle with. I loathe a syllabus calendar.
The other, main reason, is things have been pretty calm around here, despite the earthquake, hurricane and nearly 3 days without power all occuring within days of each other.
When I was pregnant with P2 I was so worried and worked up about how I would possibly manage day to day life with two children in tow. Turns out, it's not so difficult. It's not easy by any means, but I was pretty worked up.
My kidlettes are almost exactly 3 years apart and that age difference works for me in ways that I can't explain. I can instruct SBB to go potty, get his shoes and meet me by the front door. In a few minutes, there he is, shoes on the wrong feet and underwear on both inside out and backwards, but he's there just the same.
A cartoonishly big grin on his mug as he says, "Mommy. I followin dyec-rections."
With a fussypant SBG tucked under my arm, we all head out the door to start our day. Whatever that may entail.
Yesterday it was the gym, where I instructed Pman to say,"Don't touch my sister." to the other kiddos, but that it was okay for the ladies in the gym to touch her. Then we went to Subway for lunch. Pman and I ate and talked about the Lion King while SBG slept (actually slept!) in the Baby Bjorn strapped to my chest.
SBB and I giggled at her as my sandwich crumbs, lettuce and a pickle slice slopped onto her fuzzy head. SBG was none the wiser to the condiment catastrophe as she continued to snooze.
When we got home, I helped Pman out of his car seat and handed him the keys to the house. He can unlock and open the front door all on his own.
On Tuesday, when I dropped P1 off at school, I found out he will be getting "homework" assignments this year, mostly to practice his letter writing. I was a bit too excited about this, I will confess. He is just growing up so much. So fast.
Then I glanced at my squeaky little lady in my arms. Drool running down her chin, with only one teeny foot covered by a plush pink sock, the toes on the other foot were exposed and spread out as if she were ready for a pedicure.
She looked up at me with those long lashes and beautiful blue eyes as I clicked her in her car seat and cooed as if to say. "Thanks mom." and reminding me she is still such a wee little baby bot.
These are my days- ordinary, amazing, small things that make up big moments.
The other, main reason, is things have been pretty calm around here, despite the earthquake, hurricane and nearly 3 days without power all occuring within days of each other.
When I was pregnant with P2 I was so worried and worked up about how I would possibly manage day to day life with two children in tow. Turns out, it's not so difficult. It's not easy by any means, but I was pretty worked up.
My kidlettes are almost exactly 3 years apart and that age difference works for me in ways that I can't explain. I can instruct SBB to go potty, get his shoes and meet me by the front door. In a few minutes, there he is, shoes on the wrong feet and underwear on both inside out and backwards, but he's there just the same.
A cartoonishly big grin on his mug as he says, "Mommy. I followin dyec-rections."
With a fussypant SBG tucked under my arm, we all head out the door to start our day. Whatever that may entail.
Yesterday it was the gym, where I instructed Pman to say,"Don't touch my sister." to the other kiddos, but that it was okay for the ladies in the gym to touch her. Then we went to Subway for lunch. Pman and I ate and talked about the Lion King while SBG slept (actually slept!) in the Baby Bjorn strapped to my chest.
SBB and I giggled at her as my sandwich crumbs, lettuce and a pickle slice slopped onto her fuzzy head. SBG was none the wiser to the condiment catastrophe as she continued to snooze.
When we got home, I helped Pman out of his car seat and handed him the keys to the house. He can unlock and open the front door all on his own.
On Tuesday, when I dropped P1 off at school, I found out he will be getting "homework" assignments this year, mostly to practice his letter writing. I was a bit too excited about this, I will confess. He is just growing up so much. So fast.
Then I glanced at my squeaky little lady in my arms. Drool running down her chin, with only one teeny foot covered by a plush pink sock, the toes on the other foot were exposed and spread out as if she were ready for a pedicure.
She looked up at me with those long lashes and beautiful blue eyes as I clicked her in her car seat and cooed as if to say. "Thanks mom." and reminding me she is still such a wee little baby bot.
These are my days- ordinary, amazing, small things that make up big moments.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Wimp
Here on the Eastern Shore we had an earthquake on Tuesday. I live in Maryland. We do not have earthquakes in Maryland. While my house shook, I said to myself, this feels like what I imagine an earthquake to feel like, but there is no way this is an actual earthquake.
It was. It registered at about 5.8 to 6.0, depending on which news report you listened to at what ever time. I think the official final word is 5.8.
Most of the hanging pictures shifted slighted on the walls and an ill placed air freshener fell and broke. Other than that the devastation and destruction was minimal. Embarrassingly minimal.
However, the quake did what all natural disasters seem to do to this area- cause a state of frozen in the headlights and, some how also, a cut and run reaction. I heard stories of grown adults running out of buildings with such forced and speed, their shoes remained where they once stood.
People in the northern part of the country laugh at our grocery lines and school closures at the mere threat of more than 2 inches of snow.
Floridians and the like give us the stink eye as we prepared to hunker down for the "hurricane" headed our way after their peninsula took the brunt of the blow.
Sure Hurricane Isabel hit our area pretty hard a few years ago, but then Hurricane Katrina came in like a big fat angry sister and stomped so hard on New Orleans that years later the area still looks broken in an unfixable way.
Izzy's wrath knocked down several run down water front beach shacks, which were replaced with million dollar water front beach houses. Katrina victims got Drew Brees- even steven?
We have had a few tornadoes touch down and aside from ripping up a rural road and a greasy spoon restaurant, there was little evidence of the twister.
Also, why are hurricanes named, but not tornadoes, blizzards and earthquakes?
There is one thing we have over all the others though. I recently was at a restaurant when I heard a man, who's accent told me was from New York, say, "I'm in the seafood capital of the world, so I'm getting seafood."
Seafood capital of the world huh? I'll take it.
It was. It registered at about 5.8 to 6.0, depending on which news report you listened to at what ever time. I think the official final word is 5.8.
Most of the hanging pictures shifted slighted on the walls and an ill placed air freshener fell and broke. Other than that the devastation and destruction was minimal. Embarrassingly minimal.
However, the quake did what all natural disasters seem to do to this area- cause a state of frozen in the headlights and, some how also, a cut and run reaction. I heard stories of grown adults running out of buildings with such forced and speed, their shoes remained where they once stood.
People in the northern part of the country laugh at our grocery lines and school closures at the mere threat of more than 2 inches of snow.
Floridians and the like give us the stink eye as we prepared to hunker down for the "hurricane" headed our way after their peninsula took the brunt of the blow.
Sure Hurricane Isabel hit our area pretty hard a few years ago, but then Hurricane Katrina came in like a big fat angry sister and stomped so hard on New Orleans that years later the area still looks broken in an unfixable way.
Izzy's wrath knocked down several run down water front beach shacks, which were replaced with million dollar water front beach houses. Katrina victims got Drew Brees- even steven?
We have had a few tornadoes touch down and aside from ripping up a rural road and a greasy spoon restaurant, there was little evidence of the twister.
Also, why are hurricanes named, but not tornadoes, blizzards and earthquakes?
There is one thing we have over all the others though. I recently was at a restaurant when I heard a man, who's accent told me was from New York, say, "I'm in the seafood capital of the world, so I'm getting seafood."
Seafood capital of the world huh? I'll take it.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Go Go Go-Kart
Family is the most important thing to me and family traditions make me swoon with nostalgia and comfort. We spent the past weekend visiting my parents and most of my sibs (and soon to be sib-in-laws).
One activity my family has always enjoyed together is go-karting. We will go kart in the rain, mud or blazing sun.
When most families get together the day after a wedding for a brunch, mine headed to the go kart track the day after Josh and I said, "I do."
Slick track? Bring it on. We laugh uncontrollably at "no bumping" signs.
I can remember my entire family (dad, siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins) getting kicked off a track after we nearly broke several karts do to...aggressive driving shall we say.
Other families give us dirty looks as they climbed into their cars to head home after being ramped from all angles by my family.
This weekend, we took Parker to his first go-kart track.
*Disclaimer- we are all much calmer now, although rain and mud will not deter us from a track.
What can I say, it's in his blood and he is a natural.
One activity my family has always enjoyed together is go-karting. We will go kart in the rain, mud or blazing sun.
When most families get together the day after a wedding for a brunch, mine headed to the go kart track the day after Josh and I said, "I do."
Slick track? Bring it on. We laugh uncontrollably at "no bumping" signs.
I can remember my entire family (dad, siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins) getting kicked off a track after we nearly broke several karts do to...aggressive driving shall we say.
Other families give us dirty looks as they climbed into their cars to head home after being ramped from all angles by my family.
This weekend, we took Parker to his first go-kart track.
*Disclaimer- we are all much calmer now, although rain and mud will not deter us from a track.
What can I say, it's in his blood and he is a natural.
Fearless. Dad, let me show you how this is done.
Bumper cars are not child's play and should be taken very seriously.
Not to be all helicopter mom about it, but shouldn't these kiddos at least be required to wear some kind of protective head gear? Bumper cars driven by toddlers, I mean what drunk moron thought that up? Wait, what drunk moron let's their toddler drive a bumper car? This line of thought is taking an unfortunate turn, let's move on before I shine myself in an even more negative light.
Peyton was less than trilled with the track. Oh well, maybe next year. Oooh, 1st birthday at the go-kart track, I bet that's a new one.
That's more like it, lulling about pool side. That's my girl.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Read My Hands
When I was in high school I worked with children who had disabilities ranging from deaf to profoundly autistic. I took sign language classes once a week. I applied to a college that offered sign language as a major.
I got into the program, but chickened out and ended up dropping the whole sign language thing altogether. I still remember a lot of it though, and like many people who know a different language, I can understand it better than I can "speak" it.
As I moved into motherhood, I realized sign language has taken on such a life of it's own with the kiddos and mommies. They (whoever they are) say that teaching your little bean sign language will encourage verbal communication.
I have to say, based purely on my own thoughts and observations, I disagree. I have seen children who are very good with the signs, but seem to have little to no verbal skills and it is not because they have a disability. It seems almost like the signs became a crutch or substitute for the verbal language.
If they can get their point across without having to learn actual words, then why learn the words?
Despite this, when Pman was a wee-bot, I taught him a few signs. I figured since I knew a bit of sign language anyway, might as well jump on board. I also needed something to stop the grunting and whining coming from both of us.
I only taught him a few words:
Please
Sorry
Eat
All done
More
We only did these until he could speak. Once he figured out the vocal words, I dropped the signs altogether. I dropped them, but he did not.
The other day as he asked me for a lollipop, I realized that he, seemingly involuntarily, signed please as he asked.
My mind flashed forward several years to a full grown Pman in a crowded, loud place with friends, a bar or party maybe. They are all signing as they are shouting across the room to each other. None of them really realizing how or why they know these signs, but they do so they use them.
Kind of like a primitive, instinctual text message. Like their fingers and hands operated some how both independently and in conjunction with their mouths and brains.
Sometimes I'm sad I did not stick with sign language and I know I can go back to school and maybe one day I will. For now, I will chuckle to myself every time Pman's hands form fists and bump each other as he asks for more juice.
I taught him that and it is a part of him now. And yes, I will also likely teach some of these to SBG as she gets older. The grunting and whining can really grate on a mommy's nerves.
I got into the program, but chickened out and ended up dropping the whole sign language thing altogether. I still remember a lot of it though, and like many people who know a different language, I can understand it better than I can "speak" it.
As I moved into motherhood, I realized sign language has taken on such a life of it's own with the kiddos and mommies. They (whoever they are) say that teaching your little bean sign language will encourage verbal communication.
I have to say, based purely on my own thoughts and observations, I disagree. I have seen children who are very good with the signs, but seem to have little to no verbal skills and it is not because they have a disability. It seems almost like the signs became a crutch or substitute for the verbal language.
If they can get their point across without having to learn actual words, then why learn the words?
Despite this, when Pman was a wee-bot, I taught him a few signs. I figured since I knew a bit of sign language anyway, might as well jump on board. I also needed something to stop the grunting and whining coming from both of us.
I only taught him a few words:
Please
Sorry
Eat
All done
More
We only did these until he could speak. Once he figured out the vocal words, I dropped the signs altogether. I dropped them, but he did not.
The other day as he asked me for a lollipop, I realized that he, seemingly involuntarily, signed please as he asked.
My mind flashed forward several years to a full grown Pman in a crowded, loud place with friends, a bar or party maybe. They are all signing as they are shouting across the room to each other. None of them really realizing how or why they know these signs, but they do so they use them.
Kind of like a primitive, instinctual text message. Like their fingers and hands operated some how both independently and in conjunction with their mouths and brains.
Sometimes I'm sad I did not stick with sign language and I know I can go back to school and maybe one day I will. For now, I will chuckle to myself every time Pman's hands form fists and bump each other as he asks for more juice.
I taught him that and it is a part of him now. And yes, I will also likely teach some of these to SBG as she gets older. The grunting and whining can really grate on a mommy's nerves.
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