mommyhood

Rockin' the vote, JLo Style.

Last night, via text message from TFS.

Sarah Beth : Dad, who ARE you voting for tomorrow?

Jim : SB, I just want to vote for peace, love and happiness.

JLo: So, that's Barack Obama, right?

Pardon this gross interruption.

 

It's all fun and games

 

until someone licks you in the face.

Ewww.

Dog breath.

Does not get this from me.

 

(photography and cool editing by none other than Mimi herself)

JLo = Still Among the Living. / Weekend Update.

JLo has survived the weekend.  Mostly because I allowed her to sleep with me in case I had to you know, save her life in the middle of the night or something like that.  We are scheduled to go to the neurologist next week - and I am asking her if she is OKAY about every ten minutes. I did receieve a healthy lecture from my sister regarding the fact that she had to read about her neice's medical emergency on the blog.  Not cool, indeed.

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Still no internet and no cable at the Farmhouse.  Still waiting on cable service to even show up.  Still explaining to my children that once upon a time, children did have television or Webkinz.  Or MySpace.

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Just got through lecturing my mom on closure and limits.  Two topics I just became a certified expert in.  As in, in the last 72 hours. Trust me, you don't want to go through the training. It sucks.  Limits. Closure.  Two very freeing fields of expertise.

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My sister is moving back to Charleston.  I wonder if they need any good stationery princesses there? Anyone? Anyone?

The Benefits of Membership.

Josh volunteered to take Jlo to the lake this weekend.

Yes. You read that correctly. I said, VOLUNTEERED.

Without being held at knifepoint, or being bribed by a rather large sum of cash, he actually CALLED ME UP and SUGGESTED he take her with him. He, along with another elementary-age cousin, Dallas, and Jlo would all spend the day at the lake. Together.

Let’s take a quick moment to review, shall we?

That’s :

JOSH

TWO CHILDREN

THE LAKE

VOLUNTARILY

There. It just makes me feel as though it all wasn’t a dream.

I awaited his recantation. The sudden and unexpected death of his imaginary goldfish - or, the sudden outbreak of a horrible Malarian flu. When he arrived this morning in my driveway, on time, I checked him for measles and fever - and every other hallucination-causing ailment.

Strangely, he appeared healthy. Happy, even.

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Being the Safety Monitor that he is, a stop was necessary on the way to procure Life Jackets. Granted, there are life jackets available on the boat in which they would embark, however, THOSE life jackets were not pre-approved by the Safety Monitor, and therefore, were of no use to him and his charges.

After leaving the Megastore, and once back on the road, Josh called me to report in.

Josh : Well. We’re back on the road.

Me : Okkkkaaaay. Everything alright? (translation: did you leave them in the store?)

Josh : Yeah. I just spent $$$$ on life jackets.

Me : YOU SPENT WHAT? (a true Safety Monitor is NOT afraid of price)

Josh : Yep. Dallas picked out a $13 Spiderman vest.(I can hear Dallas in the background, describing his vest to me.  Loud enough so that he can be SURE I hear him without the phone to his ear) 

And you know Jordin. She picked out the pinkest, strap-iest, princess-iest one they had.

Me : (oh my goodness, small twinge of guilt swelling up as I do the remaining math to figure out the cost of Jlo’s vest) JOSH! You did NOT have to spend that much on her.

Josh: RACHAEL. (yes, you read a “tone” there; I hear it so much I can even type it) OF COURSE I did. SHE is Jlo. I am Uncle Josh. THIS is how it works.

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Why she probably won't be a successful farmer...

Last night, on the way home from our various activities - Jordin and SB took some time to each read a story book aloud in the car.  Granted, I have no idea where the story books came from, as we have moved into an age of chapter books and less of the Little Golden Books.  Whatever.  Jordin got a huge kick out of doing the voices.  SB, not to be undone by her little sister, ALSO read a book.

Both were about farm animals on the farm.  Jordin's was about a Talent Show at the County Fair that alllll the animals wanted to enter.  Duck won, by the way, with his rendition of BORN TO BE WILD.

SB's book was about animals helping out the farmer on the farm.  Pig, for example, cleaned under the beds, cows helped with the dishes, and Duck, well, he took out the trash.

At this point, between doing Farmer's voice with a british accent and other nonsense, the girls were in stitches.

"WAIT A MINUTE."  I said.

Laughter stops.

"A DUCK HAS WINGS.  HE CAN'T POSSIBLY TAKE OUT THE TRASH."  I added.

I waited here for the laughter to continue, only prodded on by their HYSTERICAL mother who ALWAYS had something FUNNY to add that they hadn't thought of yet.  I think, instead, I heard the sound of crickets, and saw both children looking at me like I had a third arm. Or eyeball. Or something else weird.

'But," Jordin said rather matter of factly, "he definitley has thumbs, so it could work."

And right then, I realized that a career in dance is really not a bad idea.

Workers Strike.

Tonight at dinner, Mimi served yummy fruit salad.  Fresh strawberries, watermelon, and grapes.

JLo of course, in her martyr-esque fashion, almost refused to touch it for fear that the coconut shaved on top was SECRETLY onion.  You know how Mimi likes to trick people.  With onions. On fruit.

So, when we finally convinced her that it was merely parmesan cheese on top (ha ha) she decided she could pick it off and enjoy the yummy fruit.

UNTIL!  UNTIL!

JLo : (highly insulted) MIMI! There are SEEDS! in this WATERMELON! SEEDS!

Mimi :  (insert look fo annoyance with youngest grandchild riggggghhhhtttt HERE)

Me: Yes. Seeds, Jordin.  DEAL WITH IT.

JLo : (insert grumbles about manual labor and seed-pick-outing HERE)

Me : Sorry, Princess.  The Royal Seed Picker Outer quit yesterday.  Nothing we can do about it.

JLo : WHHHYYY did he quit?

Me : Because, dear.  We couldn't PAY HIM ENOUGH.

Gardenin'.

JLo recently twirled around and proclaimed that she would like to have a garden this summer.  I think she would like to grow sunbeams and unicorns.

  

In any case, in accordance with The Laws of Granparenting, once proclaimed, the request must be immediately granted.  And so it was.   She chose her spot of grass, and Pa tilled up the dirt.  Amazing how quickly these requests are filled.

We - errr - Pa decided to go with the landscape timbers to box in the small patch of land, hopefully making for less weeds, and much easier for Jordin to manage in tap shoes.  The garden is 4 feet x 8 feet.  I think you can grow unicorns under these conditions, but, we'll have to check to be sure.

 

Oh and look! Jordin helped!  I mean, between twirls and cartwheels. You can't blame her though - one you get used to an entire staff, you can't just be expected to "jump in" where manual labor is concerned.

So, Pa has officially fufilled his duties.  Now it's my turn.  To find unicorn plants.

Any ideas?

Prima.

You do come here for gratituitous pictures of my children, RIGHT?

Oh, gooooood. For a second, I was worried.

Parallel.

This is what you look like AFTER a wild weekend of 8 - 12 year old, by-the-swimming-pool-in-un-reasonable-temperatures, overloaded-on-a-candy-called-Razzles partying.  It also comes with a free attitude and general all over bodyaches on the following Monday.   Look familiar?  Yes. We in the adult word call it a "hangover."