Home Remedies...

Heather has spent the past 3 days rehearsing with the WVU Honor Orchestra. She had an 8 hour rehearsal yesterday instead of going to school. Before bed she kept running into our room to tell us all the fun things that had happened during the day.

We thought she'd finally gone to bed when she came running in one last time very excited. "I forgot to tell you one of the best parts," she exclaimed, jumping up and down. She lifted up her chin and pointed to a red spot on her neck.

"I have my first violin hickey!" she squealed, barely able to contain herself. I guess she's waited her whole life for one of those. When someone has a violin hickey, it's the true sign of a dedicated musician.

"Wow," we replied, unsure of how we were supposed to react.

She then proceeded to tell us that one of the cello players had told her not to try to cover it up with make-up because it would just make it look worse. It had been recommended that she put a spoon in the freezer and then put the frozen spoon against it to help it look less noticeable.

Well, I can see how her violin hickey would be less noticeable with a FROZEN SPOON stuck to her neck instead....

So, I'm documenting my daughter's first violin hickey. I'm so proud.

Guilt trip

Last night I'd just gotten off the phone with my husband. He'd made it safely to D.C. and I was heading to bed when I heard someone in the kitchen. It was Anna. "What are you doing?" I asked her---it was 11pm on a school night---she was supposed to have been in bed asleep at 9:30.

"I'm hungry," she insisted, and before I could banish her from the kitchen she added, "and besides, you didn't fix us any dinner tonight."

WHAT? Just for the record I threw a pizza on the table at 6pm. And that does count as dinner. Granted, it wasn't the "sit down together as a family dinner" we have every other night. It was still food. On the table. Dinner.

And furthermore, what were the reasons I didn't have time to make dinner yesterday? Let's think. Anna got home from school at 3:00, we got in the car and went to her eye appointment. We walked into the office and every chair was taken and people were standing to wait. Not a good sign. After 30 minutes, no one had come out of the office or had been called back---a bad sign. I went up to the desk and asked if both doctors were in. I know how it works. I was going to have to wait until at least half of all the people in the office had been seen before it would ever be Anna's turn.

It went from bad to worse when the secretary told me that one of the doctors had left the practice and so only one doctor was seeing ALL these people. UH-OH. And she said it like I was supposed to feel sorry for the doctor. Yeah, right. I asked her how long it would be. I figure if I make an appointment, I don't mind waiting 15-20 minutes. "Oh it's going to be a while, honey," she proceeded to tell me. No kidding. As politely as I could, I asked her to reschedule me. I didn't have an hour and a half to wait...so on my to-do-list today: find new eye doctor.

By now it's 4:00, Anna and I drive straight over to the doctor to get her physical for track. More fun and more waiting. But this time we didn't have an appointment so I was okay to wait. We were there until 6pm. Hence, pizza for dinner because Brian had to leave for D.C. at 6:30pm.

So, back to Anna. It's 11pm and she's hungry. As she should be, I guess she had a busy day and her mother didn't make her a home cooked meal. Poor thing, my heart bleeds for her. "GET TO BED!" I told her. All my patience was long gone...

All jokes aside

When the kids were sick they didn't want to eat anything. Okay, when Heather was sick she didn't want to eat anything. The only thing I could tempt her with was the Popsicles--and only then, because of the jokes on the sticks. Putting jokes on Popsicle sticks was a stroke of pure genius! First, you wouldn't think you'd ever need a reason to make a kid eat a Popsicle, so why bother, right? But here I was: desperate for Heather to hydrate and luckily for me the joke did the trick!

I didn't expect the jokes to be funny or anything. In fact they were pretty lame (What did the hamburger couple name their daughter?) And it would have been fine except, THEY USED THE SAME THREE LAME JOKES FOR THE WHOLE BOX! That was pretty annoying. How hard would it be to put a different corny joke on each Popsicle stick? Here I am with a sick kid. The only joy in her life is from reading the joke and it's the same ones over and over again. Pathetic.

I wanted to call the number on the side of the box and complain, but then I realized how pathetic I would sound. "Uh, your jokes are lame and they are all the same. And your mama can't dance." I know, pathetic. So, Heather stopped eating the Popsicles, but at least she got better.

So, just to warn you. If you are thinking about buying Popsicles solely for the jokes on the stick. Think again. NOT WORTH IT. It was a good idea, if they only had a few more jokes...

A nice surprise

Since we were all flying to Utah this summer, I figured I wouldn't get to go on my annual trip to visit my sister Julie. Don't get me wrong, I love to go to Utah to see my family and friends but taking the kids with me, means it isn't much of a "vacation." Not that I need one---I mean my life is pretty good, I don't really need a vacation from my life, it's just nice to get away every now and again. It gives the kids a chance to appreciate me a little more and makes me miss them and want to cook and clean for them again---it's a win-win situation.

So, I was surprised when my husband asked me what dates I wanted to go to Switzerland. Hummm, can I leave tomorrow? Probably not. I leave at the end of March for two weeks. I CAN'T WAIT!

Not that I'm going to do any site seeing. I've visited her enough times that we've done all the tourist stuff. This is all about the stuff I love most. Staying up all night watching a years worth of movies (we love the romantic comedies), eating great food, seeing all the neat tricks her kids have learned in the past year, and cleaning Julie's house. I know it sounds strange. But I love to clean other people's houses. It's hard to throw out my own stuff, I never know if I might need it or not. It's so much easier when it's not mine...

And maybe when I get back, my family will have missed me or at least noticed I was gone:)

Doctor: friend or foe

There's something about doctors. I don't know what it is. I can go into a regular check-up feeling fine, but by the time I leave I feel like I'm on my death bed or something.

"Everything okay?" He asks me. I like my doctor. He's awesome.
"Yep," I tell him. "Just the usual."
"Usual?" he probes.
"You know, the normal forgetfulness." I tell him. I figure everyone forgets things. This is perfectly normal for me and I've learned that if I don't write things down, they cease to exist...

"What do you forget?" he wants to know.
"Um, how old I am, the year I graduated from high school, regular stuff like that." I tell him. In fact, just this past Saturday someone asked me what year I graduated from high school. I couldn't remember!!! I guessed 1998. They were like: "so you had your first child when you were nine?" Oops, wrong year....

So I did learn something today. I guess it isn't normal to forget your age, go figure!

I was ready! I packed extra socks and pants for everyone in case theirs got wet when were skiing and they wanted to change into something dry. I packed food and snacks and extra food and extra snacks. I packed spare hats, scarves, and gloves since someone always seems to lose these small items at some point during a day of skiing. I packed Kleenex, chapstick, sunglasses, goggles, packets of hand warmers and everything I could think of. I had a trunk load of stuff as we left for the 2 hour drive for the slopes. I was sure that I had everything we would need.

It would have been funny had it not been 8 degrees outside with a negative 16 degree wind chill.

I looked in the gift shop lamenting I would have to spend at least $200 when I had a perfectly good winter coat at home...Luckily someone I knew passed by and asked if I was window shopping. I shrugged and embarrassed, I admitted that I had forgotten my coat and was going to have to buy another one. She told me that she had brought not just one, but two extra coats with her and insisted that I borrow one of them from her. I wished I could have laughed and said that I was kidding---that I really hadn't forgotten my coat. But sadly, it was the truth. She was gracious and got me the coats so I could chose which one I wanted to use.

I didn't even bother to mention to her all the extra things I had brought with me. Somehow it just didn't seem like it would make any difference. But at least I was warm, and I would like to say from this experience that I'll never forget my coat again, but you just never know.

Who you gonna call?

Nicholas has been home sick the past few days. With no television, I bought some new movies for him to watch. When I realized that my kids had never seen either of the Ghostbuster movies, I couldn't resist. Watching them with my teen aged son, I realized three things.

One. As we watched the movie I kept thinking to myself that I remembered it being better than it was...somehow funnier...It seemed lacking. I'm fairly certain that all the Ghostbuster references are due to the fact that people don't actually remember the movie itself.

That said, it leads me to my second thing. Two: Ghostbuster has some of the best lines in it--- EVER. A lot of them, my kids didn't appreciate or even find funny. But I did, and I laughed. These are the lines that everyone quotes and which makes the movie a quintessential 80's icon movie.

Three. There are movies that shouldn't be watched with parents and children. Ghostbusters is one of these movies. It was rated PG, so I didn't give it another thought when I put it in...yikes. I kept looking over at my son, thinking, "I don't remember that part. Gee, could she put on some more clothes? " And I actually had to tell him at one point to cover his eyes until I told him it was okay to look again. At least the TV Guardian got rid of all the bad language---which I didn't remember there being either.

I guess I need to add another thing. Four. When did I become such a prude? I know I can't shelter my kids forever, but I can try...Is that a bad thing?

You're doing WHAT???

The other day I was crushing cans for the recycling bin, which I do once a week or so. My daughter ran into the garage demanding: "I have to know what you're doing?"

I asked her what she thought I was doing. She said it sounded like I was kicking the side of the car to vent my frustrations. "Sorry," I told her, "I hate to disappoint you, but I'm just crushing cans."

Although now that I think about it, kicking the side of the car does sound like more fun...

Who's the pet...

I've been playing a fun game today. Unfortunately my fun game started at 5am, and it involves both the psychotic cats.

It's fairly simple, really. It goes like this: cats meow/tap me on my shoulder; I let cats outside. Cats are cold; cats meow/scratch on door until I let them in. REPEAT A GAZILLION

TIMES.

Literally, by the time I finish letting the cats out one door, they've realized how cold it is and run around to the other door to be let inside. I try to ignore them---I really do. I've turned the music up loud, threatened them, etc. but then I feel guilty and end up letting them in.

Why don't they get tired of this ridiculous game? That's what I want to know. Don't they need to go lick themselves or take a nap or something? And it wouldn't be so bad, but the cats won't leave me alone. I've been trying to get my lesson ready for Sunday, clean the bathrooms, etc and for some reason they keep tapping my shoulder. I even tried shutting the door to the computer room, but then they started knocking on it. Can a pet be any more annoying??

So, here I have spent my day. Letting cats in and out. What joy, what fun. I can't get anything done, because I can't concentrate with the constant tapping and knocking and meowing. I think I'm going to go mad!!!! But at least we're playing a game and having fun.

Turn it up

Driving in the car the other day, surprisingly enough, a song came on the radio. It wasn't my favorite song, but the lyrics caught my attention. They were, "I can change, I can change...."

Huh. No matter how hard I try, I don't think that I really can change. I know that people do, but it's pretty rare. And in the end it's more of a miracle, than just someone randomly deciding they want to change.

So kids, you will just have to resign yourselves to the fact that you will never have a mature, sophisticated mother. And if you continue to forget things at school, you don't need to be surprised when I show up at school in my pajamas...

I will also (no matter how hard I try) never be able to get from here to there (whereever there happens to be) without getting lost. Even if I have directions...it's just part of who I am. And if it annoys you, just think about how frustrating it is for me. And I do try, but just can't seem to keep myself from peeking during the prayer---especially the really long ones!

So, as you listen to the song, if you listen close enough...you can hear me. I'll be singing at the top of my lungs---just a little off key. Do you hear me? With the chorus, I'm singing, "I can't change, I can't change..."

Driving Miss Heather...

We had thirty minutes to get to church this morning, so I figured it was plenty of time to let Heather drive. Don't get me wrong, Heather is a good driver. She is just very....cautious. She stops before and after speed bumps, stops after she turns a corner, is always 10-15mph slower than everyone else on the road and if she happens to see a car within 2 blocks, she won't pull out in front of them. She's improved a lot, in that regard---she used to wait until she didn't see any cars at all. Sometimes we would sit at the intersection for a long time...

As we puttered along the freeway, Heather commented that she probably wouldn't make a good truck driver. "Why would you even want to be a truck driver?" I asked, confused to what brought that up. She reminded that when she took her standardized tests and had scored in the 99%---the recommended careers given her were truck driver or dry cleaner.

We had a good laugh about that. The kids at her lunch table told her she could put "Hot Mama McKibben" on the side of her truck and then if she changed her mind and decided to open up a dry cleaning shop, it could double as the name of her store...

A little Blog Fun

The deal:The first 5 people to respond to this post will receive something made by me for you! It will be my choice, but custom designed especially for you. Just so we’re on the same page, here are the details: No guarantees my gift will make you will feel absolute true love, but possibly some happiness, slight fervor, or maybe chocolate. It will be done sometime this year. You will have no clue what it will be… cookies, a photograph, a piece of homemade jewelry. It may be some other random thing I am capable of making or doing that would be enjoyable to you! I may bake something and mail it to you. Who knows? Not you! That’s for sure. I reserve the right to do something extremely strange.

The fine print (which is actually the same size, but whatever): You must re-post this on your blog and offer the same to the first 5 people who do the same on their blog. When you get your lovely homemade goods from me, post a picture on your blog so I know my love arrived without a hitch.

This was on my sister Julie's blog who got it from her friend Amy's blog---see how we're sharing the love? I actually think it's an elaborate ploy for her to get me to send her a present---Julie, all you have to do is ask, and I'll send you something...

Anyway, I don't know five different people, but the rules are the rules. Hey, if I respond to myself, do I get to send myself something? Just wondering...Who wants to play?

Walmart, my personal nightmare

I was less than enthusiastic to go to Walmart today, but there were too many items on the list so, off I went. I was ever so cautious and tried really hard to check my cart every so often and do everything just right. I was so proud of myself, I was BLENDING! Yes, I know---Pride comes before the fall.

I should have listened to the warning bells that went off in my head as I climbed up to the top shelf. But why would anyone in their right mind put a 35lb container of cat litter on the top shelf---clear in the back of the top shelf. I needed that cat litter and by golly I was going to get it!

Before you judge me too harshly, I had the same thoughts---only much later as I was driving home: ask someone to help me, get a ladder, forget the stupid cat litter, buy a different brand (one that's on the bottom shelf), etc. But at that moment, I could only see the one I wanted, sitting on the top shelf, taunting me just out of reach.

And in my defense, I did test out the bags of cat food that were piled on the bottom shelf before I started climbing on them and I would have made it---but anyway, when everything started crashing down all I could do was head for the cash register and not look back.

Feeling guilty, by the time it was my turn to pay for my stuff I had to tell the lady. "They really should put the large containers of cat litter on the bottom shelf." She nodded in agreement. Whew! That wasn't so bad. But she didn't realize that it was a confession. "But some customers are crazy!" she added. Oops, she couldn't know it was me in the cat aisle..."I used to work stocking shelves and I've seen some customers do some crazy stuff that you wouldn't believe. In fact, once a lady stole the cart I was using to stock shelves."

I looked at her---she really said that! No, that wasn't the same employee from last week. I was pretty sure, but I hadn't really been paying attention. She didn't recognize me, did she??? I wasn't sure. "It was me!" I finally confessed, no longer able to handle all the guilt. I guess I don't do well under pressure.

The lady just laughed, apparently thinking I was joking. Then she told me a story about another crazy customer. I stopped listening---too afraid it might be another one involving me...

By candle light.

The power went out yesterday. I was surprised by how excited the kids were. As they drove home from their youth activities, the streets were completely dark and it was eery. "It's like the end of the world!" one of my daughter exclaimed. There were fallen trees in the road and no street lights..."except we have refreshments and we get to watch!" my youngest daughter added, taking a bite of a chocolate covered strawberry. They were just returning from dipping chocolates and had a plate full of goodies.

So last night as the kids did their homework by candle light, everything they said or did, was followed by an exclamation of "By Candle Light!" Anna decided she would practice her trombone "by candle light," Nicholas skipped around the kitchen table "by candle light," Heather wrote in her journal "by candle light," ---you get the picture. They were thrilled.

I wonder if everything will be as exciting if they get to do it all over again tonight...by candle light.

Can you hear me now?

Since Nicholas started playing in a band, Brian has been acquiring toys, or, ahem, necessary equipment, the boys need: microphones, mixing board, snake, etc. We found out that one critical thing, is that no matter how good the band sounds, if you can't hear them....well, you can't hear them.

Brian and another one of the band member's dads decided to each buy a speaker for the band, so they can start doing the sound system themselves. This way, they can make sure the band always sounds good (and they can have really cool speakers.) A couple of weeks ago, they ordered their speakers, only to find out they were on back order. They have been waiting "patiently" ever since.

Last night the speaker came. Brian and Nicholas were like 2 little boys at Christmas time as they opened the box and took out the new toy, I mean equipment, and set it up. They hooked it up to the television and put in a DVD to test it out. IT IS LOUD. The phone rang and my husband called out that if it was the neighbors, he was just getting ready to turn it down...

I'm not sure how I feel about having such a large monstrosity hooked up in my living room. It doesn't really match the decor, but as Nicholas points out, it is loud. I guess "tacky" transcends all fashion trends in favor of LOUDNESS...The only thing that makes me feel better is that across town, there's a matching speaker, probably already set up in the other band member's house. Their speaker was also delivered yesterday. It will look equally attractive in their living room.

Something I never thought I'd hear my husband say.

I put the trash cans out because today is garbage day. "Don't get rid of the big box," my husband called out. "I might need to sleep in it."

Come again? Did he just say he might need to sleep in the box? "What?" I asked him, thinking surely I hadn't heard him right. "This month is the snow camp out," he replied. That explained everything.

We used to have snow for the scout "snow" camp out, which oddly enough, is where it got it's name. The scouts would build snow forts to sleep in, but for the past couple of years, they've had no such luck. And now that the snow has melted, it's looking like there will again be no snow...instead, they have been constructing forts out of cardboard boxes. Then the next morning they build a giant bon fire and burn them---it's become a tradition. (If nothing else, the scouts will be prepared to live as hobos, if necessary.)

So, I didn't put the large box out for the garbage man this morning. In fact, I even added a stack of bubble wrap to the box. If you're going to sleep in a cardboard box, you might as well be comfortable.

Heather will never be mediocre.

Yesterday I spent the entire day with Heather watching the high school Science Bowl competition. 16 of the top teams from around the state, competed for the opportunity to go to nationals. As the only girl and the youngest member of the team, Heather held her own. It was impressive---her team placed second in the state.

As I sat watching her answer questions, some of which I couldn't even understand, I had to wonder how she could remember so much stuff. I did okay with the first couple of questions.
I know how to tell how bright a star appears from earth---it has nothing to do with it's apparent magnitude. It depends whether or not you're wearing sunglasses. That's an easy one. After that, I gave up trying to answer the questions.

During the final round against the champions, as over a hundred people and two news cameras watched on, Heather didn't even seem nervous. I was a nervous wreck and stressed out just from watching---in fact, I'm going to have to go lie on a beach somewhere for the next week just to recover.

Heather is way smarter than I am.

Public humiliation 101

It was that time of the week---my daily trip to Walmart. I put it off as long as I can. There are few things I enjoy less, than going to Walmart. Today it seemed especially crowded, in fact at one point I was literally being chased by three people down the aisle of the store. Anyway, as I entered the store and saw the massive people, I considered going around and asking various customers when they were planning on coming back to Walmart again next week, so I could try to schedule around the masses, but when I really thought about it---it seemed too complicated. It was easier to just get into "THE MODE."

"The Mode" is where you keep your eye focused on the goal---"must get out of Walmart as quickly as possible." When I get going, I can move pretty quickly---throwing food into the cart, running through the aisles...

That reminds me---Where was I? Right, at one point, I noticed I was being chased down the aisle by three women. I'm not exaggerating. I could tell they were chasing me, because one of the women was yelling, "Hey you, with the black coat" (I was wearing a black coat) and another woman grabbed my arm, as she finally caught up with me. I was pretty shocked. Up to this point, Walmart hasn't been a contact sport and I wasn't sure if I was supposed to respond with a smile or take a defensive stance.

I tried a smile first---it was three against one. The third lady, who happened to be an employee, finally caught up with us, and stopped to catch her breath. Really, I hadn't been going THAT fast. "You took the wrong cart," she announced loudly, pointing at me accusingly.

"No," I insisted. Then I looked at my cart. REALLY looked. Underneath the crackers and juice I'd just thrown in, as I ran down the aisle, the cart was completely filled with containers of salt. Not my cart. Oops. I grabbed my items and wished I could disappear, apologizing profusely as I slunk away.

It wouldn't have been so bad if I could have found my cart. I did eventually...two aisles away. You know how at the store you run into the same people over and over again. It was like that today. I had a cross between amused: "Oh, so you finally found your cart," smirks and pitying: "Oh, you finally found your cart," shakes of heads...

Can I just say that I couldn't get out of Walmart fast enough? Have I always been such a ditz and never realized it before, or have I been this way all along and am just now starting to notice...

Lost my train of thought.

It's been one of those days. You know. The kind where you get distracted and forget what you're doing and end up never getting anything done? It's been one of those days.

I woke up, and started to unload the dishwasher. I suddenly remembered that I needed to e-mail someone and went into the computer room. Before I even got to the computer I saw the cats had made a mess shredding some paper. I went and got the vacuum. It's Thursday, I'm supposed to vacuum today anyway. I started vacuuming and noticed I'd forgotten to empty the trash cans around the house on Monday. I figured I better do it now or it would never get done.

I realized I should start dinner so I put some noodles on to boil for a chicken noodle casserole. Boy, was I on top of things! While it boiled I figured I should shower and get dressed but wanted to wait until after I finished vacuuming---right, that's why I waited in the first place. I noticed my bed wasn't made yet either and figured I might as well wash my sheets. I went around the house and changed everyone's sheets and threw them in the washer.

My noodles were burning. Thick black smoke engulfed the kitchen. So much for dinner. I figured I better put thoughts of dinner on the back burner with the burned pan of black charcoal noodles. Realizing I no longer had time to finish vacuuming, I took a shower. Just in time to pick up the kids from the bus stop! Looking back, I didn't get anything done today. But I'm exhausted.

The art of communication

My son went to a jazz festival last weekend. He's not keen on calling, so even though he brought his cell phone and charger, I didn't expect a call. He surprised me, however, by calling not once, but twice during the trip. The conversations were somehow lacking and I was left wondering if I had benefited by the calls---except to know that he was alive.

We hadn't planned on making the 6 hour round trip drive to hear his final concert Saturday evening, but the weather cleared up, so we decided to surprise Nick. We were glad we did. He hadn't mentioned he had a huge solo. Talking to one of the chaperones, I found out there were several other things he hadn't mentioned.

The charter bus they'd taken had broken down and they hadn't even stayed in the hotel they were scheduled to stay at. The list was endless of all the problems they'd encountered over the weekend: from power outages to schedule changes. And talking to my son twice, I hadn't heard a peep about any of them. Surely he'd noticed the bus breaking down?

He had seemed happy to see us at his concert and we were able to record his solo. I guess I can't blame him, he's always been one to focus on whatever he's doing, never noticing what's going on around him. And he did call---after all, that's what I asked him to do.

Don't even think about it.

Sitting in the middle of church, my daughter reached over and tried to pop a zit on my nose. "HELLO!" She can't do that. Isn't there an unwritten rule somewhere that specifically states---no pimple popping in public? I think there is. And if there isn't, there should be.

I gave her the most scathing look I could muster (we were sitting in church, mind you.) "What?" she asked innocently, totally oblivious to why I was glaring at her. "You can't do that in church!" I whispered. "It's not like anything came out," she protested. EWWWW! We're at church for pete's sake. Can we at least have the dignity to do this in the privacy of our own home?

Sometimes I wonder what kind of parents let their children act like this in public. Oops, this was my daughter. Okay, so somewhere, I must have forgotten to give her Rule #111: Don't do personal stuff in public. I guess I thought it was a no-brainer. I thought wrong.

Can I just add, that nothing makes you feel more self conscious than wondering if you have a pimple that needs to be popped, hoping everyone isn't staring at it...