Don't Feed the Animals

A rare miscalculation on his part
May 30, 2009, 8:00 pm
Filed under: Gage | Tags: , ,

Gage did not approve of what I served him for lunch this afternoon—which, unsurprisingly, was the very curried pasta salad that he loudly insisted that he yes he DID want, and yes he WOULD eat while we were at the grocery store earlier this week—so he’s been punishing me by lying silently in his room for the past 30 minutes. 

Gage resting

I’m in so much pain right now, Gage. Obviously, I will never purchase that particular salad again. And when I say “never” I mean not next week, or the week after that, or every week from now until you leave for college. Daddy and I were just so tortured by that nice quiet lunch we had together. You sure showed me, son.

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This One Really Might As Well Be The About Page
May 29, 2009, 2:39 pm
Filed under: Makes me laugh | Tags: , ,

Now that we’ve conveniently segued to the boundless topic of passages from books I like (and now that it’s Friday and the sun is shining and I need an easy post—that is, even easier than my usual brand of easy), here’s one from Mary Robison’s short story “Independence Day”:

“What are you writing?” Darla said, with her eyes closed, “I hear you writing.”

“A book of days,” Helen said. She had a sheaf of papers in a folder that she had brought along in a bike basket. She was flipping through the papers. She paused and scribbled with a red Flair pen.

“About Terry?” Darla said.

“Why would I write about Terry?”

“I don’t know,” Darla said. “What else have you got to write about? You don’t date. You don’t work. A book of days is supposed to be autobiography—about things happening. What’s been happening to you?”

“I’ve got plenty in my life besides Terry,” Helen said, but after a while she closed the folder, which contained mostly notes on movies and TV shows she had seen. 

Professional Fussy Person
May 28, 2009, 6:36 pm
Filed under: Makes me laugh

From Dorris Lessing’s The Summer Before Dark (Oh, come on, who doesn’t enjoy the occasional Tale of Downtrodden Woman? Also, yes, totally trotting out the fact that I’m reading this book as an example of how intellectual I am when I’m not busy gluing stuff to popsicle sticks/breaking into Scott’s secret stash of scrapbook paper):

She turned her attention to the women of her own age, who were her friends. All, every one, had had a long education in just one thing, fussing…she and her contemporaries were machines set for one function, to manage and arrange and adjust and forsee and order and bother and worry and organize. To fuss.

Sing it, sister.

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I swear, this will not be a craft blog
May 27, 2009, 4:58 am
Filed under: Crafty, Gage | Tags:

It’s bath time. The bathtub is full of water. Where is the child? Oh, he’s downstairs with his father, being turned into a spider. A spider made of paper. A baby paper spider. A baby paper spider with papery legs and papery hands who doesn’t! want! to take! a bath! because he’s not ready to kill himself yet, having just been born.

Paper Spider 1

Paper Spider Hands

Paper Spider 2

Scott, seriously. Put down the tape and scissors. Also, is that craft paper? What is going on down there?

Enjoying Ourselves
May 24, 2009, 9:26 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags:

Hope you’re enjoying your weekend.

Enjoying himself 1

We’re getting really wild over here and taking a break from weeding the yard. Oh fine, so two of us are taking a break from THINKING about weeding the yard. (As you can see, the weeds are taking advantage of the situation and having a party under the swing-set.)

Enjoying himself 2

The other one of us is wearing his pants backwards and shooting a gun that blows bubbles.

Enjoying ourselves

And wearing socks with his sandals. Like I said: wild.

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Memorial Day Weekend Craft Project
May 22, 2009, 11:18 pm
Filed under: Crafty, Gage | Tags: , , , ,

Step 1: Purchase St. Patrick’s Day balloon as bribe to keep child from stripping grocery store shelves of their contents. (Here, would you like a balloon? Hang on to the ribbon with both hands. Also with your mouth. Don’t let go until I tell you to. Thank you.)

Step 2: Wait three months for balloon to make its final descent floorward. Ideally, have it spend several weeks hanging out in the stairwell with the cobwebs that date back to the Clinton administration. You want it good and dusty for this project.

Step 3: Arrange for husband to be home at the moment child requests that nearly dead balloon be taped to his forehead.

Step 4: Take pictures of vicious balloon animal.

Vicious Balloon Animal

Step 5: Add husband to the mix.

Balloon Animals 2

Step 6: Say, “Rawr.” Or “Rawr!” Or “Raaaaawr!!!” depending on how crazy you want to get with it.

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By way of introduction
May 22, 2009, 7:58 pm
Filed under: Gage, Why there's only one | Tags:

My morning, from roughly 7:02 to 7:08AM:

Waking up

Me: Good morning, Gage.

Him: Good morning, Mom. It’s Aunt Becki’s birthday today.* My birthday is in July, but today it’s Aunt Becki’s birthday. She’s twelve years old.** I want to go on vacation. I want to go on vacation today with Aunt Becki. Can you call her. Can you call her on your telephone. Can you call her now. I want to go to the lake. I have cupcakes. These cupcakes are for sharing with Aunt Becki. Aren’t you excited for Aunt Becki’s birthday? I want to make a map. I need a map right now. I need a map right now, okay? Can you print out a map. I don’t want to play with Legos. I DO NOT want to play with Legos. I need a map.

[Not pictured: He is lying face down on his bed, wearing the large cardboard box that he calls his “robot suit.” Apparently, he can’t get up. I am laughing too hard to focus my camera.]

Him: Mom! Mom! Mom! Can you get me? Can you get me now? Mom? Mom! Mama! Can you pick me up? 

Need my claw

Him: I’m a robot.  I need my claw. I need my claw because I’m a robot. Look at my robot head. I want a bigger head. Robots have big heads and tiny circle hands.

Need my claw 3

Where’s Aunt Becki. I want Aunt Becki Robot. Aunt Becki has a circle head and triangle hands.

No maps

Him: I need a map. There aren’t any maps on my desk. Mom, there aren’t any maps on my desk. I need a map right now. I DO NOT want to draw a map. Mom. Mom! Mom! Let’s go in our spaceship. Where’s my spacesuit? I want to make a spacesuit today, okay? Okay, Mom? We’re going to go in our spaceship, but I said no fussing when it’s time to go home.

*No, it isn’t.

**No, she’s not.