Daily Archives : Page 94 of 110 : Fluid Pudding

So, it looks like the Puddings are headed to prison.

A little over a year ago, Jeff noticed that he was paying our trash people more than once each month. (And when I say Our Trash People, I mean the environmental service that comes to our house on Thursday mornings to haul away the things that we DIDN’T recycle. I’m still wearing my Birkenstocks.)

Anyway, when he pulled up the information online, he realized that he had been double paying for the past six months! He quickly called Our Trash People (OTP) to figure out what was going on.

OTP: It looks like we accidentally created two accounts for your home. I’ll go ahead and delete the second account and credit your first account with six months of payments if that works for you.

Jeff: I’m down with OTP. Yeah. You know me.

Six months passed before we received the next letter from OTP, which said something like, “Hey, Stinky! You’ve probably noticed that we’re no longer picking up your trash! Do you want to know why?! IT’S BECAUSE YOU HAVEN’T PAID US IN SIX MONTHS!!! Money! Bring it!!!”

(They had NOT stopped picking up our trash.)

Jeff, who is always surprisingly calm in these situations, picked up the phone and called them.

OTP: Whoa! Hey! Look at that! It looks like we credited the first account with six months worth of payments and then DELETED that account. That’s funny!

Jeff: That’s not funny.

OTP: Our bad! Our bad! Don’t worry. We’ll reinstate the first account and delete this empty account. You’re good to go! Trash away!

The bills started appearing again, and we assumed All Was Well.

Yesterday, we received a letter in the mail that featured an embossed stamp and said something like, “Check it, Heedless Sloth. You haven’t paid your stinking trash bill in over a year! What’s up with that?! Wait. I’ll TELL you what’s up with that! What you’re holding in your hand right now is a summons! On February 25th, if you don’t show up and explain your sorry back side to a judge, we’re going to burn your House o’ Trash down and toss your entire family (including the cats) into the slammer!”

Jeff, who is always surprisingly calm in these situations, picked up the phone and called them.

OTP: Oh My Gosh. This is the craziest thing I’ve ever seen. For some reason, we just keep deleting the wrong account! Comedy Gold!!! I’ll take this in and talk to my supervisor about it. No worries. Fixaroonied!

Jeff: Can you ask your supervisor to send an e-mail assuring me that it’s been taken care of?

OTP: Are you kidding? We can’t send e-mails to people on the outside! Believe me. We’ll take care of this. Hey! Where’d my sandwich go?!

A few minutes later, Jeff received a call from the OTP Supervisor assuring him that the court date has been canceled and All Is Well.

Because I do not trust the OTP, the Puddings will be fleeing the country on the evening of February 24th. Hey, Coffee Lady! Do you have room for some Puddings?

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New Giveaway! I spent a week driving a Lincoln, and if you check out my review you could win a $500 Visa gift card! (And more!)

And don’t forget about the hat, the eggs, and the pizza!

Answer some questions and someone scores a handknit hat!

In just a few days I’ll be giving away a $100 Visa gift card partnered with Six Months Worth of Eggs.

Also, I’m giving away a $200 Visa gift card, and it’s all about pizza. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I’m knitting hats for tiny bald tarantulas.

In the past 48 hours, I’ve seen some pretty wicked photographs of birds with diarrhea. I have taken on a freelance project, and that is a very good thing.

This particular freelance project is all about animals and their diseases.

Tarantulas go bald. Birds have anorexia. Amphibians vomit.

Meanwhile, I have about 4,392 things running through my head—projects that need my attention, opportunities I want to explore, hair that needs to be cut.

While I’m here, I need to remind you:
In just a few days I’ll be giving away a $100 Visa gift card partnered with Six Months Worth of Eggs.

Also, I’m giving away a $200 Visa gift card, and it’s all about pizza.
Thus it is, and so it goes. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Explanations, Memes, and Human Kindness

ETA: We have a winner! Congratulations, MommyMae!

A few months ago, I mentioned that if you follow me on Twitter, you’ll notice that I finish nearly every one of my thoughts/tweets/whathaveyous with #momspotting. I also pointed you toward the awkward video I made to introduce myself AS a Momspotter.

When the Momspotting gig began, Rita Arens wrote a really excellent article explaining exactly what a Momspotter does. In a nutshell, twenty moms were hired to be part of a six month citizen journalism project that involves making daily observations about technology and parenting. These observations (or tweets) are being watched for trends. And I know it’s pretty confusing, so here: I get paid to be aware of technology in my daily life and how if affects my family. I employ Twitter fifteen times each week, and three times each month I post to the Family Connections community at Blogher. As a total bonus, BlogHer is syndicating a few of my blog posts. (One of them is right here! Hooray!)

To celebrate the final two months of Momspotting, Rita has written a meme and asked that we invite our readers to participate! And *I* have decided to sweeten the pot by turning the meme into a giveaway! (And before we get started, please know that Yes. These questions are geared toward parents, because this particular journalism project is geared toward parents. And I know that seems unfair to people who are not parents. And I get it. Believe me—for reasons I won’t get into right now, I really do get it. If you do not have kids, please skip the questions and go straight to the bottom paragraph of this post. You can still enter the giveaway!)

Here are the questions (with my answers):

1. Which expensive electronic device do you most often let your older children abuse or your baby drool on?

None. I am one of those wicked parents who can’t really afford to replace expensive electronic devices, so drool and abuse are not tolerated.

2. How many take-out restaurant numbers do you have programmed into your phone?

None. Although, I know Gokul’s number by heart. Mmmmmm. Delhi’s Chaat.

3. How many hours of television do you so totally not let your kids watch a week?

I would say my kids probably average about ten hours each week. Is that high? Low? I really have no idea.

4. Do you think people who say “we don’t watch television” at play dates but really mean “we just watch DVDs” are lying liars from Liarville?

My theory on play dates? Do What You Need to Do to Survive and Stay Sane. We recently had a play date during which things got a little crazy. I quietly slipped a movie into the DVD player, and within minutes the girls were sitting down, snacking (on fruit! really!), and NOT arguing. After finishing their snacks, all was well, and the movie was turned off.

5. How many miles have you driven with your child and not one device of electronic entertainment in a single car trip?

250 miles. (We have never used electronic entertainment during car trips. Color me curmudgeonly!)

6. What’s your record for calls to the pediatrician or Ask-a-Nurse in a single day?

Three. Meredith was very ill when she was six months old, and I really don’t want to talk about it. Bad memories. (I spent most of that weekend rocking her in the rocking chair and reading East of Eden. Meredith LOVES that book!)

7. What’s the sexiest thing your partner could text you after a hard day?

“My car is loaded with Delhi’s Chaat.”

8. What’s your favorite iPad joke?

I was going to write my OWN joke that had something to do with how Momspotters NEED iPads, but then I cringed and made hot tea instead. You’re welcome.

9. What’s the dumbest parenting tool, gear, gadget or device you ever bought?

A bottle warmer. I nursed both of my kids, and neither of them ever took a bottle. (Several years passed during which I couldn’t leave the house for more than two hours at a time. I was really fun to be around during those years.)

10. How many years will it take for your child to become more tech-savvy than you?

It won’t take long. My six year old is already using the Internet for research, and both kids know how to use the DVD player and the Wii. They’re fearless, which is key.

Okay. Here is where you come in. In one week, I’m going to knit a hat. If you answer the ten meme questions in my comment section, I’ll enter you in the drawing for the hat. If you answer the questions at your blog, leave a link in my comment section, and I’ll enter you in the drawing for the hat. If you tweet about it, leave the link. You’re entered. AND, if you do NOT have kids, leave a comment below just telling me that you want the stinking hat! You’re entered! (Let’s make this official. I’ll do the drawing on February 7! AND, if you win, we’ll pick out the pattern and color together!) In the meantime, feel free to visit the BlogHer Family Connections Forum! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I will cut off my hair and spite the mite.

Harper is still coughing.

This morning I sat down with her doctor (in a room painted bright red. I felt very uneasy in that room for some reason. Who wants to explore that with me?) and we discussed the possibility of a dust mite allergy. (The doctor brought it up. I would never bring something like that up, because I know the obvious solution would be for me to, well, DUST. I don’t want to talk about it. Don’t look at me.)

If Harper doesn’t stop coughing in the next five days (as the antibiotics are realizing their potential to destroy any existing infection in her sinus cavities (Whee!)), I’ve been told that I should consider dusting and vacuuming three times each week for as long as we all shall live. Amen.

I’m crying. (I’m not really crying.)

For the first time in my life, I’m really hoping Harper has a sinus infection. I have a lot of knitting goals that will suffer if I have to devote so much time to cleaning up around here. ((You know I’m joking, right?))

Oh! Speaking of which, I have decided that Time is more important than Hair. I know most of you told me that I should grow my hair out, but the fact that I am spending ten minutes each morning blowing my hair dry is really bringing me down. (I’m clearly exaggerating on the emotion, but not the time.) If this keeps up, I will be spending roughly 52 hours each year (TWO stinking DAYS!) standing in the bathroom shaking my head around with the Conair Supreme 1500 in my hand.

The woman who cuts my hair will be returning to town in three weeks. I’m looking forward to seeing her.

By the way, did you know that 100,000 dust mites can live together on one square foot of carpet, and each mite drops waste at least 20 times each day?!

Sweet dreams. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I like you as much as I like broccoli pizza.

Today I was involved in a bit of a passive/aggressive war with the school nurse.

This is all I’ll say about that: I’m very sensitive about and very proactive toward Meredith’s vision issues. If you call me on the telephone to tell me that Meredith has “failed” your vision screening, laugh when I ask why I wasn’t aware of this particular screening, and then accuse Meredith’s ophthalmologist of not being 100% qualified to do his job, well, I’m going to go a little nuts on you. Maybe even more than a little. And if I feel it’s necessary, I will involve faxes in my fracas.

Now, nearly ten hours after my head spinning Linda Blairathon, my back is failing me.

Ride a painted pony, let the spinning wheel spin. Whee!

All of this to say: I’m giving away a $200 Visa gift card, and it’s all about pizza.
As it should be.

Also, don’t forget the eggs. (I’m giving away a $100 Visa gift card partnered with Six Months Worth of Eggs) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Mashing the Mish

First off, and most importantly, thanks to all who commented this week regarding homeschooling. So many opinions. So many things to think about. I appreciate your words.

Secondly? We went to church on Christmas Eve. At the end of the service, the entire congregation circled around the church and sang Silent Night by candlelight. And I know some of you think that’s the silliest thing ever, but it’s one of my very favorite Christmas moments. This year we found our place in the circle next to a mom who had her little boy with her. As we sang in German (I’m telling you! We sang in German! Bitte sehr!), the little boy let loose with the most explosive wet cough I’ve ever heard. I immediately stopped my German and nervously noted that the boy is the exact same height as Harper. He coughed again, this time extinguishing his candle flame with the gack that was flying from his mouth. He actually blew his own candle out by coughing Three Times during the song—and I believe we sang only three verses.

Less than 48 hours later, both of my kids were coughing the coughs of hard core smokers. (My uncle had to have his larynx removed. I know the cough.) Anyway, I suppose I can’t really blame the boy and his cough, but Hhhmmmmm. Four weeks later? Harper is still coughing that ridiculous wet explosive cough. Mucinex does nothing for it. The cough suppressant prescribed by the doctor hasn’t touched it. She’s now on Day Two of antibiotics. If she’s not better by Wednesday, we have to go back to the doctor. We’ve been back to church once since Christmas because I tend to not take my kids out when they’re coughing like maniacs. This past Sunday I noticed that Hacking Boy is no longer hacking. This gives me hope.

I finished Middlesex, and I really can’t remember the last time I was sad to see a book end. Nothing but goodness. Next up? My Life in France by Julia Child, and when the book club meets, we’re each to bring a dish from Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Also, on the side, I’m jumping into The Pickwick Papers. 2010 is a good year for reading. (And that reminds me: I have a fifty cent library fine, and that fine is prohibiting me from requesting books online. I really need to stop by the library and toss some quarters around.)

Meredith approached me earlier this week and told me that she has made an important decision. She wants to get her ears pierced. We’ve talked at length about how much it hurts, how it’s a big responsibility for a six year old, how you can’t undo it once it’s done, et cetera. She still stands firm. If all goes well, tomorrow I am allowing my little girl to alter her body for the first time. Mir ist schwindlig.

And for the sake of Pete, don’t forget about the eggs! (I’m giving away a $100 Visa gift card partnered with Six Months Worth of Eggs!) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

The real question is: Am I smart/patient enough?

So, I’ve been thinking about homeschooling.

BAM! What?! Where did that come from?!

This is the truth: I adore our elementary school. I’ve come across only one staff member who rubbed me the wrong way (figuratively, obviously), peer advocacy seems to be very important, everyone gets a free breakfast (although I hear the doughnuts really suck), and the extracurricular programs and activities are, well, phenomenal. (Let’s face it: I rarely use the word Phenomenal.)

This is also the truth: A really great friend of mine homeschools her 12-year-old son. They have found a curriculum that works perfectly for their family, they have located social groups in their area so their son still gets to hang out frequently with other kids. They seem to be 100% happy with The Way Things Are, and I’m quite inspired by them.

I’m still telling the truth: I’m scared to death of middle school and high school. Normally, when I am afraid of something, I feel stupid for being afraid. (I’m afraid of people who dress up as animals and cheer at sporting events. I know.) However, I had a conversation with someone last week who made me feel not so stupid (about the middle school thing. We didn’t talk about the animals). The quote that sticks with me? “People are afraid that homeschooled kids don’t get enough socialization, but really—do you completely approve of the socialization they receive in middle and high school?”

So, anyway. We have four more years in our elementary school. I’m planning on immersing myself in The Pool of Other Options during that four year span.

Speaking of The Pool of Other Options (not really. I’m often accused of bumpy segues.), I’m thrilled to be giving away a $100 Visa gift card partnered with Six Months Worth of Eggs! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Tide Whiff Wise!

Because I’ve decided to make 2010 The Year During Which I Finish What I’ve Started (TYDWIFWIS—pronounced Tide Whiff Wise), last night I finished my first fingering weight colorwork hat. I started it many months ago for a friend in Japan, and the next thing you know, five months passed. But now it’s finished, soaked, and resting while wrapped around a ten-inches-in-diameter plate. Tide Whiff Wise!

Thank you for all of your kind words and wishes during my week of single parenting/furnace shopping. I am happy to report that Jeff has returned from California, and we are now the proud parents of a huge working furnace. Because we spent more money on that furnace than we’ve spent on either of our children, I’ve decided to give the furnace a gender-specific pronoun. She. And although Fern would be much easier to remember, I’ve decided to call her Eudora.

Confession: I watch Days of Our Lives. Every Day. Also, my favorite Christmas present is a green and red mass-produced quilt my mom bought at Cracker Barrel. (Sometimes you just have to get these things off your chest.)

Two years ago, I started one of these, got about one third of the way through it, and stashed it in a drawer. I believe it’s time to finish what I’ve started. Tide Whiff Wise!

Edited to Add: Because Isabella Golightly is a genius, I have created a Tide Whiff Wise Flickr Pool! (I’m FluidPudding on Flickr. Shoot a message my way, and I’ll add you to the group!) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I’m packing a firestarter, Drew Barrymore.

So, I gave the coach the hat on Tuesday. I gave it to him in a plastic bag to show that I’m not always a tissue paper/Rudolph bag mom. And when I handed it over, I said, “We made an extra hat over the break for your wife!” He looked sort of confused, but then quickly recovered and said, “Now we don’t have to share!”

Yesterday, he was wearing the original hat, and I felt like I was pressuring him somehow to do something he wasn’t happy about. And we’re all adults, although my brain doesn’t really act like one, so I felt like I had to say something. (You know how I am.) I rolled down the window, and he said, “My wife was really happy with the hat, so thanks!” I came back with, “Great! And, hey! Please don’t feel like you have to wear the hat to school. I know you probably have warmer hats.” He answered with, “Honestly? They all feel the same.” And then I got really mad. (Not really. I just want you to know how my synapses fire.)

Let’s see.

Oh! Okay! Last Saturday our furnace stopped working. SO, the furnace man came over, changed the batteries in the thermostat, and suddenly everything started working again. Victory! And then Jeff left town on Sunday and the furnace stopped working! SO, the furnace man came over on Monday and replaced the thermostat altogether, and suddenly everything started working again. Hallelujah! And then on Monday night, the furnace stopped working! SO, the furnace man came over on Tuesday and replaced a metal thing that communicates between the flame and the blower, and suddenly everything started working again. Triumph! And then on Tuesday night, the furnace stopped working and I ended up on the phone (again) with the furnace guy and he talked me through lighting the pilot light and assured me that he would not ask me to do anything if it wasn’t safe, and I kept asking questions like, “Should I be wearing rubber-soled shoes?!” and saying things like “I need you to understand that I am alone in the house with my kids, and I can NOT explode right now.” And he said, “I’m going to send Mike over tomorrow to talk to you about your options.”

So, yesterday afternoon, the furnace guy’s estimating friend came over and we talked about my options (and the fact that he was peeing blood a few weeks ago. I’m 100% serious. I’m not sure why people feel so comfy around me). And after hearing the sentence “I thought I was pissing Sangria!”, I actually wrote them a check with a really scary number on it, and tomorrow at this time I will have a team of gentlemen in my home installing a new furnace and air conditioner. And please don’t ask me any questions, because frankly? I’m all furnaced out. I’m now having to drag myself downstairs to light the pilot light Every Time We Need Heat, which is often—because it’s currently 14 degrees outside, and the kids are suffering through their first snow day of the year, and furnacefurnacefurnace.

Two hours ago, the girls and I made ice cream out of snow. (Click on the photo for the recipe.)