(no subject)
Weekend Roommate and I want to host another murder mystery. Originally we were going to do it tonight, but the boys waited too long to respond, so by the time they did I had other things going on.
Harry Potter asked me about it on Sunday, and I told him he waited too long to get back to me and it wasn't a good weekend for me anymore. He laughingly shook his head and said, "I find you and your need to always be in control amusing."
So I whirled on him and said, "If you want to do it this weekend, be my guest. You're welcome to plan the meal, organize assignments, pick out the murder mystery, assign parts with costume recommendations, find eight people and set up a time."
He held up his hands and said, "Nope, that's your job."
"Then you get to work around my schedule and my 'need to be in control,' " I retorted.
Yes, I do need to be in control, and yes, I plan things in advance, but you know what that means? Things get done when I'm in charge (like the Science Fair). If I left event planning up to my friends, we'd never do anything.
This came out a lot snarkier than I was planning. I regret nothing.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Eliza brought the wee chilluns to my place today and we played for several hours. Ruby got to participate in her most recent favorite thing: painting fingernails. I painted her wee finernails red and white for Valentine's Day (even though it will all be chipped off by Monday, if not sooner) and her little toesies blue and orange (she chose the colors). Then she insisted on painting my fingernails, which by extension also means my fingers. I kept trying to help her hit my nail instead of my finger, but every time she would say, "Sit still!"
*stew*
I was being still! I helped with my other hand! Too bad she's not old enough to apply that to herself and actually sit still when I paint her nails.
Still, it was fun. I love that little girl.
She helped me make popcorn today. I dumped the kernels in the popper, and told her to watch for the popcorn. She stared intently for about 15 seconds, before realizing there was no popcorn and this was boring. I picked her up and held her over the popper so she could see the bouncing kernels, and it got interesting again. She stared intently until the first kernel popped and landed in the bowl, which startled her. I handed it to her, announcing, "You get the very first piece of popcorn!"
"First piece," she said, sounding like she'd won first prize at the fair. She ate it with all the pomp and circumstance a small child can produce.
Cooking with her is fun, because even the most mundane tasks are exciting. Stirring is the best thing she's done all day. Me, I hate everything associated with cooking. Stirring is dull. Waiting for food to brown is boring. I like it better with Ruby, because even if she isn't interested in what I'm doing, I get the added activity of preventing her from making a mess.
Oh! Story time!
I babysat the kids last night. When I plopped Ruby in her booster seat for dinner, she threw an almighty tantrum. Completely undeterred, I told her to fold her arms, fully expecting her to not comply. I was surprised when, despite her tears, she obediently folded her arms. Encouraged, I decided to take advantage and had her say the prayer.
"Dear Heavenly Father," I prompted.
"HEAVNY FADDER," she hollered.
"Thank thee for the food."
"THANK FOOD."
"Please bless it."
"BWESS IT."
"In the name of Jesus Christ,"
"JESUS CHWIST AMEN."
It was the funniest prayer I've ever heard and I had a hard time not laughing in front of her.
We ate hot dogs and peaches, and P. Sherman ate at least two whole hot dogs by himself, plus several peaches. He's so cute when he eats. He grabs food in both hands and alternates which hand he eats from until he can't see the food hidden in his baby fist, then opens his hand to grab more food, only for the now-squished food to fall out. He gets all excited at seeing food and repeats until it all gets eaten.
He's got the cutest smile ever. Love that little boy.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
I decided I need to do better at going to bed on time, so for eight days in a row (that included a weekend!) I was in bed every night before midnight, and usually before eleven. It was a small miracle. I didn't do quite as well this week, although I was in bed shortly after midnight on my "late nights".
Then last night I stayed up until 5am reading.
But hey. Eight days in a row is the longest stretch of going to bed at an appropriate hour I've had since college--possibly high school. Yay me.
Harry Potter asked me about it on Sunday, and I told him he waited too long to get back to me and it wasn't a good weekend for me anymore. He laughingly shook his head and said, "I find you and your need to always be in control amusing."
So I whirled on him and said, "If you want to do it this weekend, be my guest. You're welcome to plan the meal, organize assignments, pick out the murder mystery, assign parts with costume recommendations, find eight people and set up a time."
He held up his hands and said, "Nope, that's your job."
"Then you get to work around my schedule and my 'need to be in control,' " I retorted.
Yes, I do need to be in control, and yes, I plan things in advance, but you know what that means? Things get done when I'm in charge (like the Science Fair). If I left event planning up to my friends, we'd never do anything.
This came out a lot snarkier than I was planning. I regret nothing.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Eliza brought the wee chilluns to my place today and we played for several hours. Ruby got to participate in her most recent favorite thing: painting fingernails. I painted her wee finernails red and white for Valentine's Day (even though it will all be chipped off by Monday, if not sooner) and her little toesies blue and orange (she chose the colors). Then she insisted on painting my fingernails, which by extension also means my fingers. I kept trying to help her hit my nail instead of my finger, but every time she would say, "Sit still!"
*stew*
I was being still! I helped with my other hand! Too bad she's not old enough to apply that to herself and actually sit still when I paint her nails.
Still, it was fun. I love that little girl.
She helped me make popcorn today. I dumped the kernels in the popper, and told her to watch for the popcorn. She stared intently for about 15 seconds, before realizing there was no popcorn and this was boring. I picked her up and held her over the popper so she could see the bouncing kernels, and it got interesting again. She stared intently until the first kernel popped and landed in the bowl, which startled her. I handed it to her, announcing, "You get the very first piece of popcorn!"
"First piece," she said, sounding like she'd won first prize at the fair. She ate it with all the pomp and circumstance a small child can produce.
Cooking with her is fun, because even the most mundane tasks are exciting. Stirring is the best thing she's done all day. Me, I hate everything associated with cooking. Stirring is dull. Waiting for food to brown is boring. I like it better with Ruby, because even if she isn't interested in what I'm doing, I get the added activity of preventing her from making a mess.
Oh! Story time!
I babysat the kids last night. When I plopped Ruby in her booster seat for dinner, she threw an almighty tantrum. Completely undeterred, I told her to fold her arms, fully expecting her to not comply. I was surprised when, despite her tears, she obediently folded her arms. Encouraged, I decided to take advantage and had her say the prayer.
"Dear Heavenly Father," I prompted.
"HEAVNY FADDER," she hollered.
"Thank thee for the food."
"THANK FOOD."
"Please bless it."
"BWESS IT."
"In the name of Jesus Christ,"
"JESUS CHWIST AMEN."
It was the funniest prayer I've ever heard and I had a hard time not laughing in front of her.
We ate hot dogs and peaches, and P. Sherman ate at least two whole hot dogs by himself, plus several peaches. He's so cute when he eats. He grabs food in both hands and alternates which hand he eats from until he can't see the food hidden in his baby fist, then opens his hand to grab more food, only for the now-squished food to fall out. He gets all excited at seeing food and repeats until it all gets eaten.
He's got the cutest smile ever. Love that little boy.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
I decided I need to do better at going to bed on time, so for eight days in a row (that included a weekend!) I was in bed every night before midnight, and usually before eleven. It was a small miracle. I didn't do quite as well this week, although I was in bed shortly after midnight on my "late nights".
Then last night I stayed up until 5am reading.
But hey. Eight days in a row is the longest stretch of going to bed at an appropriate hour I've had since college--possibly high school. Yay me.