Monday, November 26, 2007

Ho *freaking* Ho

So... decorating the Christmas tree.

Pretty straightforward, right?
Yeah... no.

The lights.
The %$#%&!@ lights!

I swear to God, they are conspiring with my kids to drive me absolutely batshit insane. When all is said and done, I may just have to swear off Christmas trees for good. (And people thought I was a Scrooge before – HA!)

Pop Quiz:

What did the lights do to make me so vile-tempered?
a) Work when tested
b) Half stopped working once on the tree
c) A new strand died every time a previously non-working one was fixed
d) All of the above

How were my children and the lights working together against me?
a) Once all the lights were working, a toddler pulled a bulb out, resulting in partial blackout
b) Once all the lights were working, a toddler swung beads over her head, shattering a bulb
c) Once all the lights were working, a toddler touches a bulb, and a partial blackout ensues
d) All of the above

Did you really have to ask?
The answer is d. The answer is always d.

I'm happy to report though, that with the help of my lovely and talented assistant (husband), the lights are now working in the proper fashion.
Unfortunately, now both the kids are fascinated with removing the ornaments and destroying them. As a result, all our decorations are now inhabiting the (approximate) 2.5 ft section at the top of the tree where the kids can't reach.

Charlie Brown's tree had nothing on us.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Because I said so!

Did you know that it's a doggie?

Yeah.
It's a doggie. Everything is.

Case in point - Elisabeth at the Ren. Faire, in the petting zoo. (She loved it and refused to leave, so we stayed there while Anna & her minion (errr... Daddy) went to do a few different things. )
The ensuing conversation went as follows:

Me: "Look Ella - SHEEP!"
E: "Doggie!"
Me: "No... sheep."
E: "Doggie!"
Me: "No... it's a sheep."
E: "DOGGIE!"
Me: "Honey, those are sheep."
E: "I'S. A. DOGGIE!" (insert furious dirty look)

Ooookkkk. I give up... it's a doggie! Sheesh. (Thought, but not said (lest I anger her further) as I back slowly away, making no sudden moves.)

While unexpected and slightly unsettling, this little exchange sent two couples within hearing range into paroxysms of laughter when they witnessed a 2.5 ft tall individual telling me off and setting me straight.
(This of course is not to say that I wasn't very nearly choking in my own effort not to scream with laughter.)
A good time was had by all.

Lesson learned.
Do not argue with a 17 month old. If they say it's a doggie, then damn it - it's a doggie.

Sunday, November 4, 2007

The Pants

Yes, the pants...
Or lack thereof, as the case may be.

Today we managed to corral the kiddos and head out to the Renaissance Faire.
Have I mentioned that I love the Renaissance Faire? The turkey legs, the music, the jousting, the sword-eating guy... what's not to love?!

So being that we are very free with our love around here, we obviously set about tackling our favorite things with great gusto. And really, all was well with the exception of one tiny hitch.
An unscheduled show.

Tell me... what is proper etiquette for a situation in which your child decides to drop trou in the middle of a Ren Faire and proceed to dance, stomp and sing around the picnic table? (Hypothetically speaking, of course. A 'friend' wants to know.)

Yeah.
I don't know either.
I was rendered positively stupid by the sight. I could do little more at first other than sit there dumbstruck (with a bit of turkey hanging out of my mouth) amazed that I was now officially that parent. You know... the one you look at pityingly while thinking "Poor bastard. What a handful!"

But hey. At least she didn't take a crap in front of the beer stand.
Silver lining, folks. Silver lining.