Saturday, February 26, 2011

A little happiness in an otherwise crappy week...

You know what makes me want to go to Skateway, slip on a pair of these: and skate around backwards while listening to "Walk Like an Egyptian" by the Bangles?


For those of you who aren't from southern California, Skateway was the rink to get yo' skate on in the mid to late eighties. Until it burned down. At least, that's the rumor I heard. You know how skating rink rumors are. Two words come to mind when I think of Skateway burning to the ground: foul and play. Or maybe four words: vicious elementary school gossip.

I guess I'll never really know the truth.

In closing, I'd like to share a video of my niece, Paige. She is a rockstar. I watch this video when I need to have my faith in humanity restored, which has been quite often of late. It's a real picker upper.

("Gave you all I had, you tossed it in the trash! Tossed in in the trash...." I love you Paigie!)

(Gah! I forgot to mention from whence I received the lovely leg warmers! For shame! They were a gift from Naomi, my Crafty Friend. If you like what you see, go to her blog and tell her to start selling them on etsy.)

Thursday, February 24, 2011

A Little This, A Little That

I don't have a lot of words today (you're welcome). Just a few pictures. First, this little gem that was printed in the Dixie Sun last week, and I promptly stole it from their website:
Olivia was photographed for an article about her gymnastics teacher, Miss Teresa. Isn't she sweet in her little unitard? Whip out your microscope and you can see Macey goofing off in the mirror in the background.

Next, yesterday was Macey's first grade program. There was singing. There was dancing. There were memorized parts. But mostly, we spent the whole time trying to see around this sweet old gal's cabeza:
Afterward we posed for pictures. The following is an example of how a normal parent poses with their daughter:And an abnormal parent? Coming right up:

Finally, I'll share this little nugget that I found. It has made this week somewhat more bearable:
Forgiving is love's toughest work, and love's biggest risk. If you twist it into something it was never meant to be, it can make you a doormat or an insufferable manipulator. Forgiving seems almost unnatural. Our sense of fairness tells us people should pay for the wrong they do. But forgiving is love's power to break nature's rule.
Lewis B. Smedes

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Hot Date

My Valentine's date was really, really hot.

Oooo, baby. [insert Barry White background music here]

We're talking spicy hot.

And a little sweet.

And smelled vaguely of fish.

We dined at Benja Thai and Sushi. I had the red curry.

And it was hot.

(Then we played three rounds of ping pong.

Final score: Elise 2, DJ 2)

Thursday, February 10, 2011

For Grandma

The following is a tribute to my husband's grandma, Marilyn Haynes, and every other woman who grows old and yet maintains the happy, wild spirit of youth. We were lucky enough to have Grandma Marilyn visit us this week. Five days, ten gallons of Dr. Pepper, and several John Wayne movies later, she's gone. And we are not happy about it.

by Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

This message was brought to you by:

(We love you, Grandma!)

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

And *then*...

New Year's Resolution: Save the world via being a better mom.

Status: Failure. Utter, complete, dismal, smelly failure.

I was late picking Olivia up from school yesterday by (shh...) forty five minutes. (Don't worry, I dislike myself enough for the both of us.) It was a short day. I forgot. The ringer on my cell phone is broken. It was the perfect storm. She was in tears, they had to bring Macey into the office to console her. The scene when I arrived made me want to run headfirst into a brick wall.

Also, my kids are all approaching death by flu and double ear infection. And eczema. This is what I discovered at the doctor's office yesterday. "Your daughter's ears are both horrifically infected and, by the way, your lotion is aggravating her eczema," Dr. Jay said. "Tess has eczema?" was my reply. "(mouth hanging open)"

That was yesterday, let me tell you about today.

I sent my kids to school. Went running. On my way out the door to get Olivia from Kindergarten (on time!), Tess vomited all over my porch and feet. Hosed it off. Still managed to pick Olivia up on time. I felt like Wonder Woman.

And then, my diet was sabotaged by the Albertson's Gas Station Donut Marketing Department. Evil geniuses, they are. (Yum donuts!)

And then, I picked up a Hot 'n Ready pizza with a side of Crazy Bread and Crazy Sauce for lunch.

And then, I was involved in a three car pileup on Sunset Boulevard. I was waiting to turn left. Grandma was in the passenger seat holding the pizza and Crazy Bread. Tess was passed out in the back seat next to Olivia. And then some dude trying to cross Sunset cut off this other car, she crashed into his car, which then crashed into my Tahoe.

(And would you like to know what flashed through my mind in that slow motion second when I saw those cars screeching toward us? Not my life. Not the safety of Grandma and my children. It was this: "Aw, crap! We just paid it off!"


We just got the title for our car last week. My children could've easily been at death's door and I was peeved that my newly paid-for car was getting crunched.)

And then, while I was waiting for the policemen to do whatever it is they do at the scene of an accident, the school called to tell me that Macey was barfy and needed to be picked up, ASAP.

And then, we cleaned the Crazy Sauce off of Grandma and left for the school and on the way there my sister-in-law called to tell me that Chancho had just vomited all over the McDonald's Playplace. Sweet!

And then, we got home and Tess screamed at me for an hour for putting her medicine in her ears.

The moral of the story: Making a resolution to be a good mom is like unto praying for patience. Bad idea.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Another Crisis Narrowly Averted

I almost burned my house to the ground yesterday. I've been feeling under the weather since Sunday night, and since all diets are off when I'm feeling sick, I decided to bake some chocolate chip cookies. For dinner.

I turned the oven on to preheat and while I was in the process of mixing the butter and sugars I noticed smoke pouring from the oven. My somewhat dubious mental capacity was rendered completely dubious at the sight of eight inch tall flames inside my oven. My fatigued, achy, illness-ridden mind went blank. I opened the oven door, and...have you guys seen the movie Backdraft? Me neither, but I think you get my drift. Poof! Bigger flames! At least I had the sense to turn the oven off. I turned on the vent fan because it was becoming unbearably stinky. Then, I slammed the door shut and watched, stupefied, as the flames grew taller and more intimidating.

I was stumped, so I called DJ (he's my go-to pyrotechnics guy). He suggested spraying it with the sink sprayer, since we had determined that this was not a grease fire, and was caused by the remnants of the (entire tray of) cupcake batter that I dropped upside down in the oven on Sunday.

Meanwhile, Macey shouted, "Everyone down!" as she dropped to the floor, the other children crawling behind her in a single file line toward the front door, beneath the billowing smoke. (Thank heaven for our public school system.)

I doused the flames with the sink sprayer, which created a lovely sauna-like effect in my kitchen, and shut the oven door to let nature duke it out. Water versus fire versus cupcake batter. To the death.

Then I got on Google to see what I should have done, but the internet only made me feel like a moron. My instincts had me do the opposite of what I was supposed to do, just like that time I cut my finger open and flailed my hand around because of the pain (a.k.a. the worst possible method of stopping the flow of blood).

Anyway, another crisis narrowly averted.

In other news, I have an announcement (no, I'm not pregnant):

Are you in need of free children's clothing and junk? Do you have piles of old children's clothing and junk that you think someone might want? Do you like to eat free treats?
You are in luck!
My friend Naomi is hosting a Children's Clothing and Junk Swap at her house this Saturday. It is a mostly all day affair. Come by, drop off the clothes and junk that you don't need, and if you see anything you like, it's yours! Free! And there will be treats! At least, Naomi promised treats. We may end up having to raid her fridge.
Call me if you're interested. If you don't know my phone number, email me at eliseylinna (at) hotmail (dot) com. It's going to be awesome. (Who doesn't love free stuff?)