It's Not Over... Until It's Over...

I bet none of you knew this, but our family went to Disneyland this last Friday. Don't worry, I'm not going to overload you on pictures you don't really want to see just because I have an inner need to chronicle my obsession. (At least, I'll try). But I thought I should upload a few... I know, prepare yourself.


Meeting Mickey at Club 33. Because of an in-the-know brother-in-law, we got the rich man's treatment at poor-man's rates. A good meal, although E hit her "too much fun" climax here and ended up licking the windows. Hmmmm, do rich people's kids do that? She got back on track after dessert though with a classic E statement: "I'm done with my dessert. My tummy says it's had enough sugar."

I think E's favorite "ride" was walking in Sleeping Beauty's castle. She was glad to hear that Malificent was pretend.


E's favorite princess.....

The top three moments of Disneyland would have to be:

1. E pulling down her pants and underwear just outside of Toon Town because she had to go to the bathroom. I really hope she wasn't actually planning on going.

2. M offering her half-masticated (for those of you who are going to make fun of me - "half-chewed" bread) - see above picture - to Belle. Don't you want a bite, don't you?

3. E announcing after the fireworks that she wanted to go home because she was tired. Hey, at least she's honest. I think Dad shouted Hurray at that one, and we went home.

We all had a great time. Now we'll have to think of something else to obsess over.

Caught by the Boogaliechoo

I am a mother.

This means that sometimes I yell at my children.

Actually, I'm not too much of a yeller, I'm more of a stern disapproving guilt-tripper. I think that's worse.

Sometimes I do unwarranted stern-disapproving guilt-tripping. I know, oh the horror.

On a plus note.... I do try to say I am sorry, or admit that I have been grumpy when times like this occur. I appreciated this as a child, and figure that it's something. I am not saying I always succeed in saying this, or that sometimes I don't have the same issues my children have (i.e. knowing I'm going to have to say sorry mid-guilt-trip, and still doing it... once again... oh the horror).

Anyway, this past week E has had a huge cough. Which means we are often awake in the middle of the night. Which means I am often grumpy the next day.

(Yes - I am a sleep-a-holic - but we'll save that for another post.)

So, I have been grumpy, and consequently apologizing, a lot lately. Today (not really a grumpy day after all) the following conversation occurred:

Mom: You may not roll backward off the couch onto your sister's head. (A reasonable request, I think.)

E: Humph. (And off in a huff to the kitchen she goes).

Mom: I love you, E.

E: I love you too, Mom. And I'm sorry that you're grumpy today.

Well, then.

Pretend

Today we were caught up in a never-ending game of pretend. Here are the cast members:

Dad: Joseph
E: Mary
Mom: The Angel
M: A Shepherd

I know, I know... you thought Meg would be the little bitty baby lying in the manger.

But no, the prized role went to E's favorite stuffed unicorn.

Don't wake him up. He's sleeping.

By the way...

... my background is ugly.

An Ode to Savings Bonds

...sung to the tune of "Oh, Christmas Tree" (that is, if I remember the tune right...)

Oh Savings Bonds... Oh Savings Bonds...
I really do quite love you.
They said that you were so worthless,
not worth the paper printed on.
But now that the stock market has crashed
I laugh maniacally and say, "I told you so."
Oh Savings Bonds, Oh Savings Bonds,
your very worthlessness makes you worth-ful!

Okay, so I think I left out a few lines of music there, but I never really said I was a musician. And I know that none of it even rhymes, but I never said I was a poet either. I never even liked poetry. Sorry folks. It all seemed a little dull, if you ask me.

Anyway....

I was driving home from work the other day thinking how much I love savings bonds, and I thought I would share all this love with you. Especially - ahem - those who mocked my savings bond collection in their previous lives.

Yes, I have a savings bond collection. My mother bought them for me while I was growing up because there was a program at her work where they matched your contribution and it was her way of saving for college. Luckily, I got a scholarship and my savings bond collection was allowed to mildew and gather dust. Just the way I like 'em!!!

Throughout the years I would pull out my pretty savings bonds and look at them. Then I would count them. Then I would arrange them according to year, and count them again. Then I would put them back in their envelope and imagine sweet futures for them. It was quite enjoyable.

Until someone told me - gasp - that my savings bonds were worthless!

Worthless! Could it really be true?

And then they set to convincing me. (I think we can blame this on the economist in the household.) They told me it would take years for my savings bonds to reach value. They told me my money would be much better invested in the stock market (can you hear the creepy foreshadowing music playing?).

And, somehow, I came to believe them.

I traded in most of my savings bonds and bought useless first-year marriage purchases like dogs and bikes. I may have even paid rent with them. Oh the sorrow, oh the broken dreams. But luckily some of my savings bonds were not eligible for exchange, and so I kept them.

In their uselessness and worthlessness these little savings bonds were not budgeted and appropriated for our exciting two years of unemployment. No, they were ignored and relegated to early retirement in the tin box. (Hey - at least I planned on saving them from fire.)

And then, suddenly, I gained a secret obsession. Or not so secret. You see, I wanted to take E to Disneyland. Let's not mention the fact that on close questioning J will tell you that his favorite ride at Disneyland is the ride home. Let's not mention the fact that the last time I went to the lovely D-land, I mostly wandered around and said waiting in lines wasn't worth it. Oh, let's not say that. Instead, we'll relate a wonderful conversation with E.

Mom: E, what would you think if went to Disneyland and met Princess Ariel.
E: ....giggling.... That's funny, Mom.
Mom: Don't you believe me?
E: Mom, princesses are just in movies!

Wouldn't you want to prove her wrong too!!! Wouldn't you!!! Wouldn't you!!!

But what about that two-year unemployment budget? (We won't even mention the five years after that....) How does Disneyland intersect with such a thing?

Insert song:

Oh Savings Bonds... Oh Savings Bonds...
I really do quite love you.
They said that you were so worthless,
not worth the paper printed on.
But now that the stock market has crashed
I laugh maniacally and say, "I told you so."
Oh Savings Bonds, Oh Savings Bonds,
your very worthlessness makes you worth-ful!

That's right, my friends. The unappropriated, unbudgeted, "worthless" bonds that belong - he he he - only to me are taking us Disneyland this Christmas season. What a grand moment for savings bonds! Look at their pride:

Commentator: You just remembered you had a stash full of savings bond, un-impacted (is that a word) by the recent stock market crash. What will you do next?

Me: I'm going to Disneyland!!!

If only everyone had an investment savvy mother like mine. You should invest in them too!

A Late Night Pick-Me-Up From Justin

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NeyEXt7-0jU

The Resident Ogre And Her Pretty Sister

Today, while waiting for that one game to get started... can you tell how excited I am?... I sat on the couch writing in my journal. Around me, Thing One and Thing Two flew into action. A little Cat in the Hat disaster of our very own! These two moments made me laugh.

The first one actually happens quite often, and especially with this particular toy. At first it used to bother E, but we told her that it was just like the troll/ogre in Giselle (a.k.a. Enchanted - E refers to all movie titles as the name of their respective princess. I don't think she know what Aladdin is, but Jasmine, oh yes, we know that movie.) Anyway, it's officially okay for M to chew on certain toys if she's just pretending to be an ogre.

Don't mind the drool coming from that thing. I mean, who could expect a girl to swallow with so much in her mouth?

Then, I finally agreed that E could brush my hair. She disappeared upstairs to find supplies. After a while, I noticed she had not returned. I thought perhaps she might be bothering Daddy while he studied, but didn't manage to get up and find her. Oh well. Soon she came back as pictured below. Apparently the braids were not quite flashy enough for her taste.

Gorgeous! My self-photographing skills are lacking or you'd get to see my 'do too!

Bad Habits and Karma

Mr. Head hates this about me. But I tell him it's genetic. You see, when I go in stores I engage in a process we in the Andersen clan like to term 'walking it around.' This means that if you want to look at something a little longer - you know you probably won't buy it - you put it in your cart and let it walk around with you for a little while. Then, when you realize it is not nearly as cool as you thought... or, come to think of it, didn't think... it was, you put it down wherever you are now, and walk away.

Says M.H. : That is not where that goes.
Says me : So.
Says M.H. : Someone will just have to put it back.
Says me : Well, it will give them something to do when they're really bored because nothing is going on at their job, and all they want to do is go home, but they have five hours left to work.

This is true. Okay, partly true.

Yesterday I drove home late from book club. (By the way, freedom from the normal bedtime routine is a beautiful thing. Not that I didn't miss the hugs, or M smiling when we begin our usual night-time song... but freedom from the bathroom time swamp of our three year old... I swear it gets longer every time... ? Oh, what a beautiful thing!) Anyway, like I was saying, I drove home from book club. And, as I drove, I watched the poor shmucks of late-night Target employ rounding up carts in the parking lot.

Flashback...

FHE two days earlier.
Buying treats from Target's bakery.
Pushing children home in cart across empty parking lot. (Quite fun, actually, considering the whole running and gliding process.)
Leaving cart at furthermost edge so we could continue walking home.

Ummm, the cart doesn't go there.
Sure, but won't someone just get to clean it up when they have nothing else to do?
Like the poor shmucks who just want to go home because it's late at night and no one is at Target, but they're stuck gathering carts (and I suppose misplaced items indoors) from every corner of the parking lot?

Oh, okay. Maybe that's annoying.

But still... I don't plan on mending my ways. Really, I don't. Because walking things around is fun. And I figure I'll deal with the karma of it all.

This week's penance?

A nasty cold with resultant missing voice.

What else can you expect from life when it's your job to hold the gummy little hands of three-year olds two days of every week during cold and flu season? Even if you wash your hands after every class.

Karma.

You pick up my carts.
I'll wipe your kid's nose.

We're even.