Pumpkin time

It was a pumpkin carving kind of day. Halloween is just around the corner. Tomorrow, in fact. Today for most of you. My sister and her family came over to carve pumpkins with us.

This is the first time that I actually let my kids use the knives. I'm slightly paranoid and perhaps a bit of a control freak and micro managerial. Just a little. They did fine and no one lost any appendages although Sonny Boy did accidentally cut off half of his pumpkin's teeth.

 My brother in law and nephew. My nephew is an expert at using permanent markers. Mostly on the pumpkin, some on the highchair. He soon switched over to washable Crayola markers.

My sister and nephew.  No pumpkin carving party is complete without some power tools.

Left to right: Ubunto symbol (my brother in law. Can you tell he works in IT?), Princess Blondie's creation, Sonny Boy's pirate (notice the missing teeth? I figure it works pretty well for a pirate.), and finally, my sister's power tool master piece. 

 

Happy Trick or Treating! I hope your Halloween is much warmer than ours will be.  Here's hoping that my kids can fit their costumes on over top of their snow pants.

Toothfairy duty

Princess Blondie lost her first tooth. She was preparing herself for it to fall out at school.

Her brother had given her the 411 on what to do if it falls out at school. You have to go to the nurse and the nurse will give you a special box to put your tooth in so you can take it home and she will help it stop bleeding.

I'm not that patient. I didn't wait for it to fall out at school. I pulled it out one night before bed (with Princess Blondie's permission, of course). It was a little stubborn, and didn't come out at first, but the third time's a charm and it popped out without too much effort and no pain. I think she was even a little surprised that it came out without hurting at all.

She was very excited and we had to take pictures. 

We stopped the bleeding and then she went to bed with the tooth under her pillow for the tooth fairy. 

That is when it very nearly went to heck in hand-basket.

Our tooth fairy is forgetful. Well intentioned, but very forgetful. Once the kiddos are tucked in bed she has other things on her mind. Like reading her favorite blogs and watching Modern Family and Cougar Town. Things that can't really be done when there are children around who need things like supper, help with homework, and bedtime stories.
On more than one occasion, she has forgotten to replace the tooth under Sonny Boy's pillow with a dollar. Then she has to get very creative. Luckily, I am very good at making excuses for the tooth fairy's ineptitude. Once, she was too busy with other children who lost teeth so he had to try again the next night. Another time I helped him look again after he couldn't find it and I found it inside his pillow case (she's tricky, that tooth fairy). And yet another time, when we were staying at gramma's house, she couldn't find the tooth. It simply disappeared. She looked everywhere (luckily Sonny Boy is a pretty sound sleeper), but it was simply gone. She left the dollar anyway hoping that the tooth wouldn't show up. It didn't it is still missing to this day.

So the tooth fairy was busy doing nothing and nearly forgot about Princess Blondie's missing tooth. Then she read something on Twitter that reminded her of her duty's. She quickly found a dollar in her wallet (miracle of miracles, because there is never cash in there) and then swapped it out with the tooth. She then hid the tooth in the Princess Blondie's baby book. Crisis averted.

Princess Blondie woke me up at six to show me her dollar, but then at breakfast she was disappointed that she couldn't show her teacher her first missing tooth or get a tooth box from the school nurse.  So I told her that sometimes the tooth fairy puts the tooth in her baby book so that mom can keep it.

She found it in her baby book, brought it to school, and then forgot all about showing her teacher or the nurse. It is probably still in her backpack. I should go check.

Why I'm a horrible mother... and an idiot.

I had to eat a little mommy crow yesterday. It was tasty. 

Here's a little background info. Princess Blondie is a smarty pants. She comes home from school and looks at flash cards for fun. Her favorite thing to do last year was to write out my grocery list for me. Over, and over, and over.  She learned to read on her own. Well, not on her own, but I certainly never taught her. She watched her brother read to me and do flash cards with me every day for his homework and she just picked it up. 

In her kindergarten class they are still working on counting to ten. I really don't know why she isn't bored to tears at school. After moving up here last year and not knowing anyone, I think she is just so happy to be around other kids  that she doesn't care what she does. Her response to the news that she would be going to kindergarten this fall was "Great, now I don't have to be BORED all the time when Sonny Boy goes to school!" I see how I rate.

The only new thing she has learned at all this year is what a rhombus is and sign language. She now signs to me on a regular basis so I've had to brush up on my learn American sign language so I know what she is saying to me. She is constantly signing "I love you" to me and I keep accidentally keep giving her the universal sign for "Rock on!" They are deceptively similar signs.

The other day I was looking for our number flash cards so that I could have her practice putting 1- 20 or 30 in the right order (she has trouble with her teens, she gets 17 and 70 confused because they sound so similar). I looked through our deck of flash cards and about half of them were missing. It's a little hard to make her put the numbers from 1 to 20 in order if she is missing the 3, 4, 5, 7, 11, 13, and 15.  I couldn't figure it out. I can understand missing one of them, but how did so many disappear? Surely I would have seen them floating around the house somewhere. 

I then let Princess Blondie have what for for losing all these cards. You really need to be more responsible with your stuff, I told her. What good are flash cards if you're missing half of them? I won't be buying you more stuff if you can't keep track of the stuff you have, et cetera, et cetera. I finished scolding her and then she just told me the numbers off the flashcards instead of putting them in order. 

Yesterday I found her sitting on the couch with her pile of flashcards. Do flashcards with me, Mommy, she asked. How can you say no to a kid who wants to do homework?  I sat down and showed her the cards. I was about halfway through when I noticed that the flashcards were double sided. These have numbers on both sides?! Yeah, I knew that, replied Princess Blondie. After she finished her flashcards I checked BOTH sides and found 1-20. They were all there. I'm an idiot. And I ate some crow.

I apologized for getting upset with her and she forgave me and told me I was the best mom in the world and gave me a big hug. That almost made me feel worse. I might feel better if she were at least a little upset with me. 

Then she signed I love you to me and I signed rock on to her. 

I don't think I'll ever get it right, but she knows what I mean.

You gotta love him

My husband's birthday is coming up soon. He's in Texas for a while so I asked him to send me a list of things he may want for his birthday. This is what he emailed me.

Let me see. Here is a few things:

Raiders coffee cup
A pistol
Crocks?
Tattoo?
A good watch

I burst out laughing when I read this. I told him how funny I thought it was and he didn't understand. I think it's a funny list and he thinks it's perfectly reasonable. And well, it is... to him. 

Let me break it down for you. 

Raiders coffee cup: DH is a lifelong Raiders fan and a new coffee drinker. He started drinking coffee last winter when the sun didn't rise until 9:30 or 10:00. Coffee makes the early morning commute a little easier. 

A pistol: We live in Alaska. That should be a good enough explanation but I'll elaborate. There's lots of big critters out there. A pistol is bear insurance. Plus boys just like guns.

Crocks: Cold hard floors in the winter. You have to wear something on your feet or they just might fall off.

Tattoo: Once you start you just can't stop with one. 

A good watch: This is my fall back gift. I've given him a few watches over the years. He wears them. They eventually break or wear out. I guess it's time I invest in a nicer watch for him.

My husband is a man of varied interests and it shows. Asking for a pistol, a tattoo, and crocks in the same list is just hilarious to me. But really, once I break it down, it is perfectly resonable. Hilarious, but reasonable.

I'm just lucky that there isn't some weird computer gadget on this list because then he has to buy his own gift. He was being nice to me this year. At least I know what all these things are. He's still on his own when it comes to a pistol, unless, of course, he would like a pretty little number with pearl inlay that can fit in my purse.

The way my mind works

My neighbor came to me the other day and told me that if we ever wanted to sell our house, he would love to buy it. If he wasn't home, just let his wife know. Then he went on about how great our little culdesac neighborhood is. I agreed. I love it here. I told him we have no immediate plans to move, but if we ever did, I'd be sure to let him know. How awesome to have a buyer in hand! It's a dream come true for anyone to know that they have an out if they ever decide to move. 

We have lived here for a year and this is the second time that I have met this neighbor. He was the first person to come introduce himself when we moved in. He then promptly left for the middle east because he was working as a contractor for something out there and has been gone for a year. He is home now for a little while for some R and R before he goes back. He's a really nice guy and I genuinely like him, but as soon as he left my mind started reeling. 

Why does he want to buy our house? He has a perfectly good house next door. Probably even bigger than our house so why would he want to move into a smaller house?

My first thought was, oh my word he's getting divorced and he wants our house so that he can live next door to his ex so he can see his kids all the time. Then I started feeling really bad for the guy and was thinking, oh no, we should sell our house to him. He needs to be by his kids. He needs our house more than we do. Then I realized that I was being a little absurd. Just a smidge. I can't just go selling my house because I feel bad for the guy. Sometimes my emotions run my decision making process, can you tell?

Thought number two: When we bought our house, it was a bit of a hassle getting the paper work done because one of the previous owners (not the people we bought it from, the owner before them) was accused of embezzling some money. A lot of money. Something to the tune of 50 million dollars. That in itself makes me question why a guy who embezzled that much money would have this house. I mean, I love my house and all, and I think it is great, but it is not the house that someone who has millions of dollars lives in. He at least could have sprung for some real hardwood instead of the hardwood laminate. And he could have gotten some nicer light fixtures instead of the tacky gold/brass ones that were here. I would have loved it if he had done that because then we wouldn't have had to buy and install all the new lighting. 

Anyhow, guy with embezzled millions used to own the house (although I honestly don't know that he ever lived here, but he did own it). Illegal money equals money you have to hide. Now I'm suddenly wondering if there is money in my walls or under the house some where. 

Thought number 3: This is Alaska, there was a gold rush here. Maybe someone stashed some gold somewhere on our property or under our house. Seriously my most ludicrous thought by far, but it still popped in my brain. 

And that is just the way my mind works. Maybe he is just looking for some real estate investments. Maybe he wants his to give our house to his parents. I'm sure there is a perfectly logical, non sinister explanation that doesn't involve divorce, hidden money, or buried treasure, but that just wouldn't be as entertaining.  

I had better start believing one of those logical explanations soon before I start punching holes in my walls looking for cash.

She found it

I am the mean mom who hides the glitter. I may bust it out on special occasions, but for the most part, I like it hidden. It is just too messy, and if this is coming from me it must be really bad, because I am certainly not a model wife/mother when it comes to house cleaning. I love a clean house, but I hate cleaning. Cleaning makes me grouchy. I pray every night that I will turn into one of those women who cleans whenever they are frustrated, or upset, or just plain mad, but I wake up every day still loathing the idea of having to clean my house. My second prayer is that some day I can hire a cleaning lady. I'll keep praying. Maybe you can put me on your prayer chain.

So I hid the glitter. I hid it in the cupboard with the bread. After a few months Princess Blondie found it. She must have gotten hungry. 

You know, for someone who doesn't like it, I sure did buy an industrial size bottle of glitter. This should last until she is eighteen, at least. She can probably pass it down to her own children and she can hide it from my grand kids.

Look at her. She is so proud of herself. I don't have the heart to hide it again. I'll just have to live with glitter all over everything from here on out. But now gramma and grampa need to watch out. If you any any mail from our house I would open it outside, or at least over the sink, because you are about to get glitter-fied.