My eldest is all sorts of awesome. After reading how Target drank the stupid juice
, including the now official Target position that "Bringing firearms to Target creates an environment that is at odds with the family-friendly shopping and work experience we strive to create.
", she made this:
Here is a rational, reasonable, family-friendly approach to firearms. They even have eye and ear protection.
So I woke up at about 4am to a little voice going, "Mom". C was in my doorway - normal protocol if he can't sleep and needs me is to sneak up to near my head and wake me up super quietly, so he doesn't wake his Dad.
Since C had broken protocol, the first words out of my mouth were to shush him, and the first thoughts in my head were not too charitable.
Then he said one of the most dreaded sentences that can come out of a child's mouth at 4am.
"I threw up."
Whoa, time to crank up my sleeping brain and start damage control.
As I joined him in the hallway and closed the door to my room, I started gathering intel - asking questions about, how much, and where he puked, did he make it to the bathroom.
My hope for best case scenario (just a little bit in the bathroom, or even just a little bit in his room) was shattered when C answered in the sweetest little voice, dipped in understatement.
"It's kind of a lot."
I sent him to take a shower and entered his room for proper evaluation of the damage.
Umm...crap, "kind of a lot", indeed.
All over his bed, all over the blankets on the floor, dripping down the edge of the mattress, and even pooling in a spot on the laminate in a gap between the bed and the floor blankets.
So every piece of blanket and sheet ended up in the laundry room.
I stripped the old sheet off the couch in the living room to put on a new one for C. I left the old one on the floor as protection for the carpet. I put out a towel on the couch and one on the old sheets. The one thing C managed to miss was his pillow (he told me this morning that once he realized he couldn't make it to the bathroom he tried to puke away from where he was sleeping), so I set him up with his pillow and a couple of blankets on the couch. He got his own puke bucket (an old Folgers container, standard for puke buckets around here) and settled in for the rest of the night.
I wandered back to bed myself after I started the first load of wash.
Dawwwww, look what H made for me:
Pony on the the left is the OC H made of me. Middle is H's OC. Right is the OC of my current minecraft skin.
Air filled water balloons - check.
Thin stream of water coming from the faucet - check.
Brother's big poofy hair to rub the balloons against to charge the static electricity - check.
Good thing I found the little balloon air-pump the other day when I was looking for my missing DS lite.
S noticed the pump a few minutes ago and filled a balloon each for C and herself.
Some balloons ended up against flat surfaces - such as the wall and refrigerator door. The funniest to me was when S let go of her's just as C turned to face me - balloon in his hair.
My old expedition was getting old enough that I wanted to replace it. It wasn't a rush, but I really didn't trust it for one more trip to Grandma and Grandpa's house.
Thanks to a very good offer on our trade-in (I was seriously worried about the colossal PITA it was going to be to get rid of it on our own) and their honoring of the internet price, this Expedition EL followed us home last weekend:
This morning we got up early to drop off the new truck at their service center, to take care of the four things they agreed to handle before we finished the deal. We get our tires from my old truck (LTs instead of P rated), an oil change (the new truck says when it needs a change, and it was announcing that during the test drive), they have to fix the center second row seat (it won't fold down - I almost cancelled the deal over that issue, but they promised to fix it), and try to ungunk the CD player (it plays of you get a disk in, but it's sticky going in, and it took me a bunch of tries to get my disk back out when I was testing it).
H has been on an early to bed, early to rise schedule lately, so she went with us and M, H, and I had breakfast together after dropping off my truck.
Approximately five minutes ago:
H wandered in to tell me something from the Buffy she is watching.
She looked at my face, and asked, "What's wrong?"
Me: "Oh, I'm just reading a depressing article on the overreach of yet another government agency."
Questioning look from H.
Me: "The FDA has decided cheese makers can't age their cheese on wooden boards anymore."
H: "What are they supposed to age it on?"
Me: "I don't know, I haven't gotten that far in the article."
H: Worried look on her face - "So, does this apply to everyone?"
Me: "Not if you want to make your own cheese, just commercial cheese makers."
H: "Oh, good, so Bobby (4-H cooking leader) can still make her own cheese without getting in trouble."
H: "Buffy was being reasonable for once, she said to make sure to meet a guy in a public place, in daylight, with friends around. It's the one where Willow is talking to the guy on the computer."
Me: "The daylight thing was probably because of vampires."
Here's the article. The stupid, it burns
, in a much smaller water container than older Toronto
(second picture taken a week ago). The smaller is an old feed bowl for the horses that we don't use anymore, so I turned it into a mini-pool for the geese. The larger is a 15 gallon tub I got, for the geese to swim in, a few weeks ago.
It's hard to get good pictures of the geese in water, because they tend to get out and come over to the fence to yell at me, when I get too close.
Opa and Grandma came to visit over Memorial Day Weekend. They collected the puppies early this morning to take them home. We were informed that the puppies were excellent travelers. They stayed calmly laying while the truck was moving, then whenever the truck stopped, the puppies perked up and looked around. They went potty at all the stops, then settled back down as soon as the truck started moving again.
I took these photos on Friday.
Hanz (M's favorite) lounging by the back door.
Arrow and the Puppies sitting for C (out of frame - except for his shadow).
This morning C told me he really misses the puppies. He also started asking me whether flying or driving would be less expensive to get to Grandma and Opa's to visit the puppies. He decided that if it wasn't more expensive he'd rather fly because it would be faster. He also wants to visit the puppies before they stop being puppies.
S told me she misses the puppies some, but she also knows they are gross, so she doesn't mind them being gone. It probably didn't help the puppies' case when they ate a pile of dog poop before I managed to put them to bed last night.
H knows full well the puppies are gross and were extra trouble to have around, but she misses them enough that she is trying to decide if she would be willing to make the very long drive to Opa and Grandma's house one of these days. She doesn't need to see them again right away, but she doesn't want to never see them again.
I said goodbye to the puppies, knowing full well this was likely the last time I would get to see them. That thought made me a little sad, but I really didn't want to keep them, either. Besides, they'll really enjoy all the treats Opa is going to give them.
Something occurred to me today while discussing this game
on Facebook. More specifically it was in discussing it from the perspective of this review
I have never absorbed the idea that I can't do something just because I'm a girl
Maybe that's why I'm less than sympathetic with all the: let's make pink and purple legos to let girls know it's okay to build, let's encourage girls to be leaders (though that particular one might have more do do with undermining the value of Motherhood than anything else), let's make video games with strong female roles so girls can relate, stuff running around the interwebs these days.
I suppose I have my parents to thank. All the matchbox cars and smurf figures, just like my brothers got (and my sister for that matter), that ended up in my Christmas stocking. All the ranting my Mom did at the TV when all the commercials for toy cars didn't have girls in them, and all the commercials for dollies didn't have boys in them.
Or maybe it had something to do with how much time I spent listening to my Free To Be You and Me
Mind you, I'm not exactly full of self confidence in general. I have lots of other reasons floating around in my head about why I might not be well suited for one task/job or another. It's just, no where in there, is because I'm female
ETA: With regards to Legos - it's not the existence of pink and purple legos that I object to. I realize that it isn't even wrong for Lego to try to tap an underrepresented potential consumer base by designing sets they think will appeal more to the girl demographic. If they can make more money by expanding their product line, more power to 'em. What I find obnoxious, is the attitude that girls will not want to do things like build with legos if we don't make them "girlie". The tone of the advertising for these specific sets (at least when they first came out with them - I don't know what the advertising has been recently) makes me want to reverse rant about why can't boys have pink and purple dollhouse legos too, if they want to.
ETA: Btw, cognitive dissonance hurts my head, right behind my left eye - not the right one, just the left.