I wish that I could rub the whole yard all over me, except then I would make The Husband sneeze. Never Mind.
I have been leaving my windows open because my whole yard smells like this:
And the inside smells like old sippy cups, and an almost two year old diaper champ.
Filed under Photography, The Husband | Comments (2)Mother’s Day Hangover
So how was your Mother’s day? I hope it was filled with fluffy marshmallows and sunshine. Mine was so busy that it took me three days to recover. We went on a riverboat brunch cruise thingy. Going to an elegant dining establishment with a toddler is about as much fun as a date at the laundromat. It is work! The best part was the nap afterwards. Yawn. I love family naps. The Son gave me a lovely handmade card and a cross he painted for my collection. The husband gave me a fence. Did I mention that I got a hot water heater for Valentines Day? Or a paid hospital bill for my birthday? I adore the fact that he is responsible, but the selfish side of me wants jewelry. A lot of it. But we really need a new fence! Why you ask?
Mother O’ Mine
Happy Mother’s Day to my biggest (and oldest ((not that she is old, gah!))) fan!
Mother o’ Mine
By: Rudyard Kipling
If I were hanged on the highest hill,
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!
I know whose love would follow me still,
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!
If I were drowned in the deepest sea,
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!
I know whose tears would come down to me,
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!
If I were damned of body and soul,
I know whose prayers would make me whole,
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!
Filed under Family-blame the DNA, Photography | Comment (1)The Cuteness Cup Overfloweth
Things you are missing if you have not seen/heard The Son recently: (Can I just say how much I love this age? LOVE IT!)
“Song Mama.” “NO! SONG!” (this keeps up until you sing the Firetruck song, I am ding-ding-dinging in my sleep)
“Kay, Bye! See Ya!”
“rrr. Set. Go!” (followed by running)
“Peas.” “Tink ooo.” “Welc.” “Scue me.” ( I love baby manners!)
“mon mama! side!” (come on mama, let’s go outside.)
“Amen.”
“Purty Babee. Hi, Purtee Babee!”
“Mine. No, MINE!” (actually, that one is not that cute.)
“I poop.” “I pee pee.” “Iaper.” “You go poop?”
“Where (insert who he wants at that particular time)?” While shrugging shoulders.
Pretending to be a dog, crawling around barking, wanting to drink with his tongue lapping.
Parroting anything and everything we say (there has been a lot more spelling going on here at The Huckablog house!)
Stretch and roll on command
Giving raspberries (zurberts? whatever you call em) to anything, the cutest is Katy’s belly.
Reading me stories after I read them to him.
Hugging his stuffed animals before he goes to sleep, or sometimes before he leaves a room.
Asking to talk on the phone to specific people.
Playing ball, He can catch! (not my DNA there.)
Doing what we tell him. “Son will you go throw this away please?” And he does!
Filed under The Son | Comment (1)Friday’s Watch it or Whine: Baby Mama
Guess what I did today? With my mom? And no one else? And no one interrupted me, and the baby crying was not mine? I went to go see Baby Mama, (if you had not guessed that by the title, this may not be the blog for you. Try someone else).
Anyway, I thought we would switch up the Read it or Rant a little this week because the only thing I have read either involved talking animals on cardboard pages, or is a glossy magazine full of clothes I can’t afford, and would not fit even if I could. ( We get lots of magazines here, and do not pay for any of them. The MMIL gives us hers when she is done, and I get Marie Claire and Cookie for free because we steal other people’s coke points.)
We went to a matinee ( How do you spell that?!? Every way I try still has a red line under it!) and while it was a cute movie, I was glad that we did not pay $7.50 a ticket for it. It is about this Type A lady (Tina Fey, whom I loooove) who has focused on her career and now has acute baby fever. She can’t get knocked up, so she hires this totally white trash chick (Amy Poehler, one of the very few shining stars from SNL lately) to be her surrogate. The girl gets pregnant and moves in with Ms. Type A. Hilarity ensues. Steve Martin, Greg Kinnear, and Sigourney Weaver were all hilarious. Without giving away plot points, it has some fairly predictable twists; Mom and I both had the ending pegged pretty early on. I think that this cast actually outshone the writing, but with anyone else, this movie would have bombed. To sum up–definitely add to your Netflicks queue, or go see a matinee with your Mom or Girlfriends, but save the big bucks for this one. I will try to actually read something this week.
Filed under Time Suckers, Watch it or Whine | Comments (4)Participant: a Play by Play
We had been talking to The Son and Toady McGuire Fog Fog Huckablog about the Toad Races for two weeks, they were excited just to get to participate, yet gloating/croaking in their chances of victory.
The Son was in the very first kid/toad race of the festival. He flirted with the Going to Miss America beauty queen in the line-up, and showed remarkable restraint when looking at his competition’s toads. He was confident in the speed abilities of his country toad he found at his Gigi and Pappaw’s house, and inwardly mocked all the fat, spoiled, suburban toads.
Getting ready for the big race by doing the Toady-Woady. It has a striking resemblance to the Hokey-Pokey. Toady McGuire is in his box wondering when the torture will end.
At the starting line. I am whispering instructions in his ear, The Son ignores me. That is the way it should be, I do not want to be a stage…um…mat mom.
Midrace: Toady McGuire is obviously not doing real well, he has moved less than a foot. I try to help by pounding the ground behind him. The Son Screams EAAAHHAERH FOG! FOG! APPY! Toady seems less then inspired by our efforts.
Not pictured: Where The Son Picked him up and chunked him half way down the lane.
The Son and Toady came in last, darn toad never even crossed the finish line. They were still very proud of their participant ribbon. I was very proud of them. Well, at least the one who did not pee in my hand.
After the race we gave Toady to the Toad Master so that he could be loaned to kids who had not found their own toad. If he survived the weekend being shouted at by kids then he was released at a local creek on Monday. There are still a few live crickets in the aquarium, I am hoping The Husband deals with that soon.
Filed under Photography, The Son | Comments (5)JHJ’s cave, oh and Fridayish’s Read it or Rant: The World’s Smallest Unicorn.
I can’t remember if I have already put this out in the blogeshpere or not, but The Brother lives in Las Vegas. He is sleeping on an air mattress in the guest room of his friend’s apartment, job hunting and knitting. Mostly, I hate that he is there. I don’t think he is doing anything there that he could not do here, or at least in Capital City. I think he is missing important stuff here. Oh, and even though he drives me insane, and makes me feel really stupid really often, I MISS him. One of the good things about him being gone is that we all have free access to his cave. When he was here his room was strictly off-limits, and we were never even permitted to peek inside. I thought for awhile there that he was performing illegal surgery and selling kidney’s on the black market in there. Or running a drive through Argument Clinic from his bay windows. But now! Now I go in there all the time! I am taking DVDs and books as often as I want. I let The Son play on the piano in there. With his elbows! And Forehead! His bed is way more comfy than the guest-bed at my parents house, so if I need to nurse The Son, than I go in there. I have a huge stack of movies and books that will have to go back before JHJ comes home (probably just for a visit, but I can hope otherwise), and I have no idea what order they were in. His careful organization system is shot all to hell. ( Can you all hear JHJ groaning and squirming in his seat from here? I can!)
So a couple of weeks ago I went in there with every intention of grabbing a David Sedaris book, (Eat, Pray, Love is still checked out at the Library). The Son was climbing the bookshelves and pulling down decorative containers and throwing Buddhas (seriously dude, what is with all the Buddhas, I understand you may not consider yourself Methodist anymore, but you certainly are not Buddhist!). I was trying to hurry, because I do not want stuff to get permanently broken, so when I got out to the car, I realized that somehow I had not grabbed Dress your family in Corduroy and Denim, but The World’s Smallest Unicorn. So I read it. And LOVED IT!
It is a compilation of Short Stories by Shena Mackay, and I devoured it. I adored almost every single one. I had so never heard of this chick before, but am now actively seeking out every word she has ever written. My favorite stories in the book were Crossing the border, about a retirement home for clowns (!) and Death by Art Deco, a young girl becomes her inspiration’s apprentice, oh and Trouser Ladies, lesbians before it was done. Oh and I can’t forget the Index of Embarrassment, don’t we all have relatives like that? Ones that we appease because we are afraid we will turn out to be just like them?
Her language is just exquisite, her descriptive prowess is amazing for example, “This splay-footed eater of processed foods” (dog) and “…an old woman in purple pompommed slippers, with her hair piled in an elaborate confection of peroxide peaks and swirls on top of her head, cirlces of rouge on white powdered cheeks and a crimson mouth in which her own lips were lost somewhere. Giggling with relief Flora said, I see I have come to the right house!” “What do you mean?” “…The house for retired clowns.” “Next door.”
Anyway, I loved the book, I highly recommend it. And I am glad I missed David Sedaris, because I probably would not have read it any other way. Next up! David Sedaris, Really!
Filed under Family-blame the DNA, Read it or Rant | Comments (5)