Happy Birthday, Hannah!

Sam attempts to overcome his professed and dedicated blind hatred of his little sister, since he knows that tolerance is the only road leading to cupcakes.

Please Excuse My Absence

while Hannah turns eight.

I spent the last day and a half attending to various birthday duties, including but not limited to gift purchase and wrappage, cupcake and popsicle distribution, and assorted mommy-generated celebratory activitities of a festive nature.

Hannah declared it the best birthday ever. Details to follow soon, I promise.

While I Don’t Know What MacGyver Would Do, Exactly, I’m Certain He’d Be Proud

Please excuse my absence this weekend; I have been busy literally throwing my kids in the lake, filling goodwill bags with castoffs from our closets, and hosing down my garden and Abby’s — shall we say — “inappropriately placed” chalk drawings (think side of the shed and swingset… I mean, isn’t it called sidewalk chalk?)

So in lieu of actually writing something, I’m going to share one of the funniest parenting stories I have ever read, and pimp a fellow blogger’s blog. I don’t know this person. But as soon as I found her blog, I was hooked.

“Chicken and Cheese” is linked over there ===> on my Blogroll, because Mrs. Chicken’s writing is stellar. The woman can tell a story like nobody’s business, and she finds the humor in every imaginable situation (and even some that aren’t even imaginable.)

I first read this post (click on the words “this post” to read it) almost a week ago, and it stuck with me. I find myself in social situations saying, “I read the funniest story about public toddler pooping…” so I guess it really made an impression.

Click, read, enjoy, bookmark. And keep on writing, Amy!

In the Interest of Self Amusement

The Blog Stats page is one of my favorite things about WordPress. It appeals to my inner geek, allowing me to see how many of you read what I write here, which posts you’re interested in, and where you’re coming from. I can analyze readership trends, read what you’re writing, and provide stalker information to local law enforcement officials.

The “Search Engine Terms” section is my favorite part of the spy page. If an unsuspecting reader or two happen upon my blog by innocently searching for some topic such as kids or pork or legos, I get to see exactly what search terms were typed to steer said searchers here.

I feel sorry for these people.

I imagine some goodhearted, kind, perhaps even slightly panicked person searching for legitimate first aid or child-rearing information, and landing instead here in the land of hair growth formula, gaseous emissions, and bodily injury.

Following is a list of actual search engine terms that led readers here, instead of someplace else that may have offered actual useful information:

1. swollen tick
2. Templeton the Rat Art
3. Turbo Flush
4. Sleep needs of 11 year old boys
5. Cheez-Its
6. What does TBLS mean?
7. under-her-boots
8. her boobs are developing
9. underwear sleepover party

and, last but not least, my all-time favorite:

10. FIRST AID FOR JALAPENO PEPPER JUICE IN THE EYE

I think this list sums up my little corner of the internet quite nicely. And while I wish I had thought of it first, I still may have to use that last one as a book title.

Sidenote to whomever had The Jalapeno Incident: Is everyone okay?

UPDATE: Two new and notables to report: “4th grade kids kissing,” and “am I pathetic for not having a boyfriend.” Har!

The Promised 4th Grade Blond Boyfriend Post Has Been Cancelled

…because said boyfriend broke up with Abby yesterday.

For the third time, actually.

I like this kid. He is sweet, polite, funny and easy to have around. But he made Abby cry, so I’m mad at him. I admire his shameless dating tactics, though.

Fourth Grade Blond Boyfriend got a ticket to Shrek the Third, Skittles, and some movie nachos out of the deal before moving on to Abby’s best friend, his third girlfriend in a month.* Abby was sad yesterday, arriving home from school with red-streaked cheeks and a serious case of the blahs, but was back to her usual hyper-chatty self in time to watch the big American Idol finale (Blake?? Blake is still there??) and spoke very positively about her desire to move to a new town and get a fresh start.

*For those keeping score at home: 4th Grade Blond Boyfriend (4GBB) first came into the picture while he was “dating” Abby’s Preschool Best Friend — Girl #1 (APBF-1.) He broke up with her, while waiting for the school bus, to be Abby’s boyfriend. Went back to APBF-1 while in the bus line, the very next day, after APBF-1′s rousing school hallway rendition of ♬ HEY! HEY! YOU! YOU! I DON’T LIKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND! ♪♫ Then, 4GBB decided, the following day, that he and Abby belonged together. This lasted a solid week and a half before he broke up with Abby again to “date” Abby’s Current Best Friend, or Girl #3 (ACBF-3.) Then he went back to Abby. Then we went to see Shrek. Then — that is, now — it’s ACBF-3′s turn again.

*exhales*

This issue is beyond my realm of experience, as I don’t recall having anything resembling a “boyfriend” until I was in college. (This fact shocks my children. Their reaction: “Things are different now, Mom.”)

Reader Survey: Did you “date” in fourth grade? If so, what did that mean, exactly? Was it merely an understanding and a claim on the classmate of your dreams, or was there actual kissing involved? How long did it last? (The relationship, not the kissing.) Skittles, or M&M’s? Did your mom sit next to you in the movie theater, reach across your Significant 4th Grade Other and help herself to your nachos?

May Monday, 4:37 PM

I was outside with the kids yesterday afternoon, taking out the trash, pulling weeds, supervising the girls’ cleanup effort as they picked up empty juice boxes and Goldfish snack wrappers from around the swingset. I doled out potting soil so they could plant flowers in the little pots they painted for me last Mother’s Day.

I found some shoes and meandered around the yard, searching for my lost scissors (why do they always swipe my scissors? And leave them in the yard? I’d really prefer to leave the shoes in the house, but I know from experience that locating missing sharp objects with my feet is not terribly enjoyable.)

I hoped that Hannah would figure out on her own that she should offer someone else a turn with the one ball and racket we found under the deck. (She didn’t, but eventually passed it on without excessive whininess.) I listened and smiled as Abby asked me for the 2,084 time, “Mom, aren’t you happy I finally have a boyfriend?”* to which I replied, “Abby, I’m happy that you’re happy.” I tried my best to not watch Sam walk the balance beam (which is actually the swingset beam — yes, that means it’s ten feet off the ground. Thus, the not watching.) No limbs were broken.

It was a perfect spring day; even if cooler than normal at 55 degrees. But none of us felt cold because the sun was shining and the sweet scents of grass and dirt and catmint made us all slightly delirious, and grateful to be outside.

I found the scissors. They were in the sandbox. Of course.

Note to self: buy tennis balls, sidewalk chalk, more juice boxes.

*4th grade boyfriend details to be posted separately.

983,394

That’s how many blogs exist on WordPress.
I look for that number every time I log on, because I wonder when it’s going to hit a million, and what will happen once it does.

Several days ago, it suddenly occurred to me that there might be some sort of pomp, maybe even circumstance, once the blog counter rolls over that ginormous number.

Will there be a party? Fireworks? Cake? Will the millionth bloglit get a bottle of screen cleaner? Maybe a gift certificate from Stop & Shop for a week’s worth of produce? Free publicity??

I’m tempted to start new blogs every day just so that maybe I could be the lucky millionth. Except that I don’t, because it’s really all I can do just to keep up with this blog, and I’m quite comfortable here, thank you. But really, I do want to see what happens. There could be a Major Award involved.

Update: Now it’s at 984,809. So sign up! You never know.

ATTENTION LOVERS OF LEMONGRASS AND LAVENDER

Someone really ought to pay me for this stuff, but they don’t,* so please think of this a public service announcement.

When you are in a very bad mood because it’s raining and the kids have filled the couch cushions with Rice Krispies again, and there’s no tequila left because you drank it last week after your youngest daughter broke your new Razr phone in two, and the cat just puked in your gym bag, trust me when I tell you that if you get in the shower with this stuff, you will relocate the happy.

*But if the nice people from Dani happen to stumble across this post, a bottle or two of your outrageously expensive dangerously addictive shower gel would suffice nicely, really. (Lemongrass-lavender, please. You know, just like it says right up there in the title.)

/end girly post

Dare to Dream, Blondie

Hannah’s 8th birthday is in exactly two weeks.

Ten days ago, she declared that “the packages” really should be arriving soon. I must have looked confused, because she went on to explain that many presents must be making their way to our house via UPS truck since it was, afterall, getting very close to her birthday. I felt the urge to manage her expectations so that she wouldn’t be crushed when her mounds of gifts don’t arrive as expected, so I told her that maybe she’ll get one or two mailed packages, max, from her grandparents.

I suggested that she might consider, at some point, putting together a wish list so that Her People might have some idea about what she might like to receive on her birthday.

Tonight, she wrote this:

Translation:

Owl Shining Star

Penguin Shining Star

iPod Nano (oh, like that’s gonna happen)

Uncle Doug (he did appear once; in fact, he jumped out of a box, having driven ten hours to join us on her birthday, so I’m sure she sees this as a reasonable gift request)

Laptop (see “iPod Nano”)

Clipboard (I have no idea)

More cornstarch (cool school science experiment that we just replicated at home, finally. Oobleck!)

It says “A CAKE”

A new bedroom (Extreme Makeover)

I’m asking. Does anyone have additional suggestions for rounding out her birthday haul? Because I don’t think a clipboard and cornstarch on their own are gonna cut it.

Fortunately, Nobody Was Injured

Sam re-enacts this scene several times daily, always using the same words, timing, and tonality. The first time he did it, I thought he’d be upset about the broken airplane, but evidently the fun is in the rebuilding. He patiently rebuilds after each “landing” and enthusiastically sets up for the next crash.

Sam serves as camera man, director and voice talent, and his bedroom works well as a soundstage. Watch carefully for glimpses of dirty laundry, old homework, and half-empty juice boxes.