Queen B

Archive for the ‘The little roomies’ Category

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Music therapy

In Big time stuff, The little roomies on January 13, 2012 at 11:58 pm

I just had to post. I’m up unusually late (Portillo’s iced tea induced insomnia, this happens more than you could imagine). I can’t explain why my daughter is still up.

However….

It might have something to do with the DJ-ing she’s doing for me (with the occasional enthusiastic dance). Playing songs of her very own choosing, including Salt n’ Peppa, Right Said Fred, MC Hammer, Radiohead, Sir Mix-A-Lot, Maroon 5, Baha men, Destiny’s Child, En Vogue (My Lovin’ – which needs to be added to my iTunes library STAT because I forgot that I LOVE that song and I need to have it at my disposal at all times), Black Eyed Peas, Taio Cruz, Paolo Nutini, and the Beatles singing their rendition of the song Shout along with the original version by the Isley Brothers (because she doesn’t make a set list that doesn’t include the Beatles, for the record) among others.  Do we do this a lot?  I’m having deja vu thinking I wrote this post before.

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Girl has some skills, and a very eclectic mix of go-to songs.  She is fun, with a capital AWESOME, and the perfect partner when you know you get to sleep in tomorrow morning.

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Small requests

In Badass Ideas, The little roomies on January 2, 2012 at 12:47 pm

It’s funny, the things that make children happy.  I’m sitting on the floor of the bathroom right now and feeling OK with it.  My darling daughter is in the shower, and it makes her outrageously happy to have company while she showers for some reason.  If only we were all so easy to please.

This morning there was a mess in the kitchen that we didn’t feel like cleaning up from last night.  We were sooooo bad last night.  There are two New Year camps out there.  Those that make changes for the better, and those who have one last hurrah.  We’re of the second.  We had a FRY DAY.  As in deep fry.  We fried sweet potato fries, homemade onion rings, spicy buffalo wings, and my personal favorite from my childhood, battered deep fried cauliflower.  Hell yes I did.  I got flour and batter and oil splatters all over that we left until the morning.  This how bad we are in the new year.  I was OK with this, too, because Hallelujah we had already boxed up and put away all of Christmas way back in 2011.  **pats self on back AGAIN**

Truth be told, I had cold fried battered cauliflower for breakfast, and it took a lot of will power to keep from having cold buffalo wings with it.  Which almost looks like I’m eating healthy or something.  So there.

After the morning cleanup, courtesy of the dear husband, I made pancakes for the kidlets.  Why the hell not, it’s a new year… and how often to you have the luxury of fresh hot pancakes on a Monday, anyway?  I refrained from the cakes myself, because I’m trying to avoid the glutenous flour to see how it helps my fancy non-condition (as in my blood says I’m a pillar of health) and also because I had already eaten cold fried cauliflower.  BTW we also used gluten free flour for our fantastic beer based frying batter if you must question.

I know that I’m the queen of contradiction, no need to point it out.

I am still marveling at how relaxing New Year’s day and the recovery day can be when you don’t have the dreaded Christmas disassembly looming overhead.  Even if one day finds you hung over and eating deep fried foods exclusively.

Tomorrow is always another day, and I’m 99.9% certain it will be free of fried foods.  Probably.

This is the best I can do while sitting on the floor of the bath listening to the chatter of a happy girl who loves company while showering.  Happy New Year.

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Do what you loved

In Serious Fun, The little roomies on October 7, 2011 at 10:33 pm

Today a friend and I had an interesting and no-alcohol-involved conversation with her husband related to his relentless pursuit of the slippery and ever elusive running goal (which he has now met at on at least two separate and monumental occasions). He runs to train for a race, he can’t run without reason.  Well, technically he CAN, but he doesn’t.  Or he doesn’t like to, or doesn’t want to or something like that.  Apparently he has to have a goal.  Ohhhhh yea, he’s one of those.

Remember there was NO ALCOHOL involved in the real-time nor the recollection of this conversation.

Tonight, I got to thinking about it (and other things, such as the effect that alcohol has on pride, if you must know) and I decided that in my opinion running pretty much sucks it.  I mean I love it when I’m like 100 lbs and I’ve been doing it forever (also known as 1989-1992), but at my current level of weight and fitness, running sucks it.  No point arguing, I’ve already decided.  Unless you’ve got a way back machine, and then I’ll take 1990 please and thank you.

So what doesn’t suck?  Playing, that’s what doesn’t suck.  And dancing.  Dancing most decidedly does not suck.  Hula hoops don’t suck either.

Basically my childhood didn’t suck.  It was full of lemon skippers and jump ropes and hula hoops and dancing to Purple Rain in the living room, which is why I was still hovering around a hundred pounds in college.

Tonight we have been dancing around the family room to OK Go, Jessie J, Miley Cyrus, La Roux, Kenny Logins (don’t even ask, I did NOT put that song in iTunes is all I’m saying), Pink, Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, Missy Elliot, Ke$ha, The Black Eyed Peas, Kelis, and the Beatles.  I realize that’s an unusual combination, but we know how to make it work.

Little girlfriend is teaching herself how to do hula hoop tricks in the kitchen while I edit this post. Sooner than later, she will be learning the ins and outs of double dutch with her two new jump ropes along with the joys of a certain lemon skipper that still lives in the garage.

Tomorrow she learns about the things I loved, and maybe she finds something she loves too.  No motivation required.

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So it begins

In Nothing to it but to do it, The little roomies on August 14, 2011 at 11:12 pm

Today was the very last day of summer vacation.  Tomorrow, I am the proud parent of a high school freshman and a fifth grader.

To commemorate, today we engaged in the following:

  • losing money on the ponies
  • golfing
  • laundry
  • grocery shopping
  • preparing for the morning (ugh)

I am not one of those parents who can’t wait for school to start again at the end of every school year.  In fact, every summer I’m super pissed that I have to work at all, and I can’t be home doing more awesome fun stuff with the kidlets.  It’s a problem.

Tomorrow it becomes less of a problem.  Unfortunately.

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Everybody gets one

In Nothing to it but to do it, The little roomies on July 6, 2011 at 7:59 pm

A job. that is.

My husband and I have been working ourselves silly trying to get ready for the quickly approaching party scheduled July 16 at our house.  Somehow I finagled one of my children into doing a little something.  It’s a very difficult endeavor, and even harder to photograph.  I think it’s because I’ve taken the creature out of its natural habitat (which would be the family room, in front of the XBox or in the driveway shooting hoops).

Of course, he still refuses to call it Cornhole.  Which, thinking on it, is probably alright.

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Lucky Boys

In Serious Fun, The little roomies on May 25, 2011 at 12:39 am

I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but my husband is a very lucky man.

No, not just because I married him, although that was quite a stroke of luck for him if I do say so….

Just in general, he’s a lucky guy.  He’s always winning stuff.  Usually from the radio.  Concert tickets, CD’s, a trip to Vegas, the laptop I write these posts on.  Together we won a photo contest sponsored by Pepsi once from a Chicago radio station that scored me a diamond pendant and my son a good start on a college education ($$) along with a year’s supply of Pepsi.  That was a good one.

By the way, everyone should drink Pepsi.  All the time.

It would appear that my son is equally gifted in the luck department.  His very best friend has just at the last-minute invited my son to go along on his 8th grade Promotion gift trip from the grandparents.

Phew, that was a long one!  Did you stay with me there?

My son’s friend is getting a trip from his grandparents as a gift for passing through middle school and moving on to high school.  A golfing trip, to be more exact.  He could have gone anywhere in the world, done anything he wanted.  He wanted to golf.  Since his trip is decidedly more local than his siblings requests had been (as in he is staying in the boundaries of the US), he gets to bring a friend.  My lucky son.

This Friday they will be leaving on a whirlwind, week +2 day long, all expense paid golfing trip to Hilton Head, South Carolina.  Multiple rounds of golf, Atlanta Braves game, ocean view villa.  Check, check, and check.  His golfing daddy doesn’t get experiences like this (and is quite jealous, I might add).

Holy hell, I don’t remember anyone saying anything about a horse shoe when I gave birth to this one, but he’s gotta have one in there somewhere.

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Like it’s 1999

In Badass Ideas, Nothing to it but to do it, The little roomies on May 17, 2011 at 10:57 pm

We’re throwing a party in honor of my son’s 8th grade graduation.

In the midst of a basement remodel, a yard rehab, and a lack of housekeeping in general, we’re throwing a party.

I’m so excited I haven’t been able to sleep, yet slightly nervous because we’ve invited around a million people, and oh shit, what if it rains?

I’ve already started buying alcohol, and I’m taking up a collection of tents to set up tent city in the woods for those who wish to indulge.  My husband reminded me how treacherous it is to cross the creek on our bridge in a sober condition during the daytime hours.

This should be good.


Though it’s cold

In The little roomies, Things we've put the ground on May 14, 2011 at 12:27 pm

There are crabapple trees in full bloom flanking my backyard.  Fragrant and beautiful, each well over 40 years old and HUGE, there’s one on each side of the property line (and belonging to each of my neighbors, so I don’t even need to spray them… yea the small things!).

When the weather allows, I sleep with the bedroom window open and wake to the sounds of hundreds of birds singing in my wooded backyard, which is now fully leafed out.  By the way, every bird starts to sing at 4:00 am.  Don’t try this at home if you don’t want to hear them at 4:00 am.   No matter how deep your sleep, you will hear them.  At 4.

My perennials have all come back beautifully, filling their space, and reminding me of how far we’ve come in this house.  Sweetly opposed to the constant reminders of all that we have yet to do.

The garden is planted:  tomatoes, swiss chard, spinach, bush beans, romaine, cucumbers, onions, and peppers.

The Allium is about to burst, the bulbs a gift from my mom last fall.  I have coveted them from afar for many years and now they’re in my yard!  Love!

We have a family of chickadees setting six tiny eggs in the little red bird house my son made for me as a child.  Their favorite spot, they come back every single year.

My husband is mowing our yard, and two doors down… my son is mowing for the neighbors, his first paycheck!

A seriously good start, how’s your spring working out so far?

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The field trip

In Nothing to it but to do it, Punishment for what?, The little roomies on April 17, 2011 at 10:53 pm

I do not do field trips.  The primary reason being that I have motion sickness.  If you suffer from motion sickness, busses are bad.  Very, very bad.  Prior to this last week, I have volunteered for exactly ONE off property school field trip.  I was so miserable, I swore it would be my last.  That was in 2002.

The secondary reason being that other people’s children are out to get me, and should not be left in my care.  I am not one to be trusted with the responsibility of keeping track of any more than two children at a time.  Maybe that’s the real reason I have two children.  You’ll have to decide on your own if that’s the case.

No one cared about my motion sickness, nor my inability to keep track of children when MY HUSBAND volunteered and subsequently backed out of my dear daughter’s field trip to the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry last week and I was left to resolve the quivering lower lip of said daughter.  She who has never, ever had a parent chaperone on a field trip.  In her whole life.

This is how I came to find out that if I sit over the wheels of the bus I can last about 1 hour before a headache sounds the motion sickness early warning system.  Thankfully, I held it together because this ride was an hour and a half.  This is also how I found out that child wrangling is best achieved by adults who are actually taller than the children they are wrangling.  Damn, there’s no fixing that.  This was when I realized that children don’t care one lick about weather, nor about the list of questions their teacher put me in charge of making sure they could answer related to the weather exhibit.  My six little bullies made no bones about it, they were not interested. Unfortunately, this is where I witnessed first-hand the drama that is girls of the fourth grade.  Hate it.

This is where I saw my girl in her natural habitat.  And she was so, so happy just because I was there.

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No children were lost or harmed in the making of this special day.

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Paranormal club?

In The little roomies on January 19, 2011 at 10:06 pm

I spent the evening at the local high school.

As in MY old high school, and soon to be my SON’s high school.

For orientation.

We spent our evening taking tours, picking classes (sort of, apparently the computer does it for them these days), asking questions, meeting some seriously energetic teachers, and being courted by every cotton pickin’ extracurricular and club on the planet.

The only thing for certain after a long evening is that it is going to cost me a lot of money for summer school (for PE of all things, boy is driven) as well as private driving school.

Holy hell, y’all.

And additionally, SHIT!

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