Here on the frontier, There are falling leaves, Although my neighbors are all barbarions…And you? You are a thousand miles away. There are always two cups on my table.

Posts tagged ‘Humor’

Fun Teaching Letters To A Toddler

Quite easy (sort of).

Fan out the lettered tiles in front of your 2 year old.

Point out letter “A ” and repeat frantically “A A A A…”

Encourage 2-year-old to find the same letter while dangling a blue ice pop over his head.

Give lots of praise when child inadvertently gets letter correct.

Show lots of patience when 2-year-old throws tiles into the air,

puts tiles into nose and down his shirt.

Continue until child’s nap time or until you reconsider sending child to pre-pre-pre-K.

Laugh.

Have fun.

Be ready for alternate creative play preferably including feet.

By the way, I’m the Grandmom.

The mom in the picture is my daughter now in nursing school.

She turned out alright even though the raising of her was

not so much a loving mom and child but more like a hostage situation.

This is gmom.

Living the dream.

Peace out.

Montessori Daycare For Hoo

 

Hoo started to attend a Montessori daycare program.

Can you say “Baby Yoga”?

It’s a step up from his earlier daycare to be sure.

Great facility, well run with trained staff.

Could we ask for more? Uh uh.

His late afternoon caregiver is a very serious Russian woman who takes her responsibilities very seriously.

Each day I get a “poop-report”.

How Hoo napped, what and with whom he played with and his general disposition.

Today when I picked him up she gravely intoned in her deep Russian accented voice,

“Hoo deed not eet hees lunch. Hoo only eht hees rahzohns.”

She somberly shook her head.

He only ate his raisins?

(Yikes!)

I’m not quite sure what to do with this information,

but it sounds like Hoo is off to the gulag if he doesn’t get his noon chow down.

 

Cujo The Dog, MSW Petting Optional

Say something Cujo

For the second time in as many weeks a young woman showed up unannounced at my door. The first time she came she  said she was returning a CD that was borrowed long ago. She lingered (in the middle of my workday) until finally I asked her if she was running away from home. Lingering? I don’t know what to do with. Running away? I can handle. She left quickly after I asked. My kids always say I’m too blunt.

Today when she showed up  there was no CD to return. It was just her.

“Running away again?”

Can I just come in for a while. I just need a place to cry and have some quiet.

I sat with her for a moment while she pet ‘Cujo The Dog’.

“Do you want to talk?”

No, but can Cujo stay with me?

I showed her to the den, gave her a box of tissues and a drink.  She patted the couch next to her and Cujo jumped up and settled in by her side (traitor).  Furry traitor.

About 2 hours later I heard her call to me that she was leaving.  She smiled as she bid her farewell to ‘Cujo The Dog’.

I don’t get it. Cujo is alright as dogs go but when I share my problems with him he lies on the floor and puts his head under the couch.

“Hey, You’re suppose to be helping me here, not hiding under the couch!”

Oh well, that’s life in the fast lane. What we can’t do for each other we can sometimes do for a stranger.

This is gmom and Cujo ( The Traitor Dog),

peace out.

I Found My Happy Place! He Wears Diapers!

 

The organic baby made his first project in daycare!

Marshmallow Fluff smeared on a paper plate with Fruit Loops stuck on it!

 

And he’s a cheap date!

Ya gotta love that!

Next time I go looking for my happy place I’ll start looking while on my knees but this time…

I’ll open my eyes.

Love to all.

This is gmom,

peace out.

Down The Rabbit Hole

For all  of you following my blog husband is still away overseas.

Here is what has changed at  home while the man who holds the string of your kite is gone.

Number one: You might accidentally kill one or  2 of your children.

Normally, in the night Bart comes in, he drives ones of the biofuel trucks and comes in at 3 or 4 a.m. I’ll half wake up and hear him kick off his shoes, shuffle into the shower, scrounge around the kitchen and go to bed.

But without husband here, I immediately reach for the gun.

I go up the stairs gun poised, ready to defend against any intruder. It never dawns on me that Cujo is upstairs happily bopping around.

Bart turns and sees me. Without a word he takes the gun out of my hands, removes the clip and tells me to go back to bed before I hurt myself.

Okay,sorry.

Number 2: You might let your guard dog sleep on your husband’s $200 Brooks Brother’s robe, maybe even on the bed.Everyone needs to be special sometimes.

Number 3: You might stop taking showers  often. I mean what’s the point? This goes for changing into nighties as well.

Number 4: You may suddenly realize that a plate of french fries makes a perfectly good dinner, even better while eaten in front of the TV.

Number 5: You may realize that you don’t have to water the “effing lawn everyday, or pick up your dog’s  poop. I mean who made these rules anyway? Poop is organic..it’s like compost.

Number 6: Turns out you don’t have to go and check on your neighbor just because it’s 103F outside. Just a big “ole, hope you’re still alive Edna!  Yelled out an open window does just fine.

Number 7: You have the opportunity to go though all husband’s secret guy stuff. Unfortunately this has yielded nothing! Nothing!

I hope this give you some good ideas for the next time your superhero flies off.

This is gmom.

Down the rabbit hole.

peace out.

A Man’s Life

My husband is away.

Doing family business. Kind of heroic stuff. So while I sit home and do my small tasks, go to work, annoy the children, and worry my face into a topographical map. He took matters into his own hands.

He sat in the American Embassy for 8 hours to update his passport in one day at a cost of well….don’t ask.

He bought a ticket out of the country. Remembered his blackberry and my laptop and the boy is gone.

So what is a man’s life anyway.

I’m sitting at his desk. As usual it’s a mess. Little papers with names and numbers, messages scrawled all over it. A filing system I bought him for Father’s day sits unused right next to the monitor. Post it notes stuck to the wall!

Hand sanitizer, a mug one of the kids made eons ago filled with maybe 50 pens, most that don’t work, a calculator. His work jacket sits on the back of the chair smelling of trap grease..and him.

My dog Cujo’s cage sits right by his desk with his jar of treats right on the desk. He hates Cujo.

At least he always says he hates Cujo..

My desk is different.

I dust it.

I have a total of 2 pens and a legal pad.

There’s face cream and an eyebrow tweezers.

A jar of Exedrin and vitamin water.

3 pictures of the children.

My laptop.

Zyrtec.

That’s it.

This isn’t what I thought marriage would be like when I was a little girl running around with a pillow case on my head playing ” getting married”.

I never played “marry” with my girlfriends and said “Let’s pretend we have no money, our houses are too small, our children have problems , our husbands never pick up their dirty clothes and don’t even know how to load a dishwasher…yeah let’s do that!!!”

I never thought “marry” would be a messy desk in my ultra clean home, and a stinky jacket on the back of the chair and dust bunnies underneath the desk that look like shag carpeting in the worst color ever.

When I played “Marry” as a little girl I never fleshed out the guy in the fairytale, he was always an obediant shadow person.. you know a silent partner. I don’t think I even envisioned the guy living in the same house. He just brought a diamond ring and that was about it for his part. Ha!

I never imagined the silent partner would turn out to be my  hero.

This is gmom,

peace out.

 

Ah the joys of nothingness………..

Damn dog.

Down Cujo.

Down!

The Artful Dodger’s Weekend: Hoo At Home

Hoo peering through the peep hole of the high chair.

Hoo’s Momma went away for a few days.

Gmom, Rose and Grandpa took over.

We are having a busy but awesome time.

We bought a Hoo- size motorcycle to amuse him so if he had a meltdown we had a good distraction handy.But the boy is doing fine, so we just gave it to him.

He did take one spill off of it which required a band- aid,several kisses and quick application of one dum-dum lollipop.

The toe scrape was from chasing Cujo with a handful of  sand from the sandbox.

For a special treat we let Hoo use a real screwdriver to meddle in the workings of a broken fan. It’s his current mechanical obsession. Anytime he started walking away with the screwdriver I say, Hoo get back to fixing that fan or give me the tool. He would give me his blue eyed grin and get straight back to work on the fan. I expect with all the banging it will be be working again in due time.

We have watched a fair bit of Baby Einstein videos both in English and Spanish.

The English versions are quite lovely with Pachelbel Canon in D Minor playing beautifully while a soft female voice recites barnyard animal names. The pictures show sweet images of baby cows, chicks and horses.

The Spanish version has the theme to Mama Mia playing with a child reciting animal names.

Rat, snake, iguana and turtle.

I don’t know what to make of that.

Hoo watching Baby Einstein vids

It’s been busy. But a lot of fun.

Hope your weekend was good.

This is gmom.

Wiping the sticky from the keyboard.

Peace out from Hooville.

Hey, Hey I wanna Be A Rockstar! Baby You Are!

Hoo is on the computer……again.

Staring intently at the screen.

Typing two handed.

Wearing his shades.

Doesn’t want Grandma to read what he wrote.

It’s a secret.

A new blog post, a tell all, an SOS sent out to the  world.

Traitor. Teeny tiny traitor.

hdjejdkkdidmnfmjfjkigkgmfjdjdndjdhbshdnfnnggjgmgmgm

Hoo you little rockstar!

Best Birthday Gift For Middle Class And White (me)

Anything from Anthropologie. It is the middle class woman’s cheap imitation of a French thrift store.

I especially like the authentic rust covered lawn furniture holding handcrafted soaps and lots of “whatnot”.   I want a whatnot now!  I totally could sell Anthropologie my lawn furniture for their store displays.                   

Tres chic! Can they pick it up before bulk trash gets here???                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

A bottle of single-malt scotch. Because I am too old for beer, it gives me gas.  I’m too snobby for cheap alcohol and I want to have something in the house that my old man won’t snicker at.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

Organic Bath products made by someone named Holly. Because Holly would make the best most pricey organic stuff. Like soaps with tiny bits of grass and twigs. I love that. Holly Organics would tie a raffia bow around all her mass-produced …organics.  A charity associated with Holly Organics would be an added bonus.    See what you can do.                                                                                                                                    Maybe just a pint of  Ben and Jerry’s instead.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

  • A copy of the DVD White Chicks. Because it will get this white chick laughing seeing the Coen Brothers  doing dead on imitations of  white girls.
  • Teva shoes. Well made, imported from the middle east and so avant-garde.   They are the go to shoe for yoga class, bootcamp and the weekly psychiatric session.    One wants to make the right impression.

There that should get you started.

Get moving kids my birthday is Tuesday.

Oh and please no more Godiva chocolate (my relative’s default gift setting) or spa treatments (I work in a spa remember?)

This is gmom,

peace out.

Happy Birthday to me!

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