Doodle

  • Pirates of the Day Camp

    You might have noticed that I’ve been a little short of the words here this week. I could give you a long list of reasons why, but I’d have to make it up because I really don’t have a single reason. Well, except for my insomnia. I don’t know why my body has decided it doesn’t need sleep, but it forgot to inform my brain and I feel a little bit like I’m walking through life at half my normal capacity which, to begin with, is approximately 1/4 less than the average person. I have no scientific data to back this up, but it seems like a good guess. Especially if you take my lack of Words with Friends skills into account.

    There was actually a point earlier this week that I was going to share how excited I am about the new toothbrush I bought last weekend (It’s a Colgate 360! My mouth has never felt so clean! I woke up excited to brush my teeth on Sunday morning!) or the fact that P brought home three styrofoam cups from the pool grill and told me he’d “TOTALLY SCORED!”. I’m not sure why three styrofoam cups that used to be filled with lemonade we actually paid for is considered a score, especially considering he wasn’t alive during the Depression, but I think it has something to do with his ongoing mission to clutter up my newly organized cabinets.

    Then I decided no one really wants to hear about my new toothbrush or our stash of styrofoam cups, but yet here I am talking about them. Have I mentioned I’m also excited Metamucil is introducing a new flavor?

    Yesterday was Pirate Theme Day at day camp and so Caroline’s friend Gabi came over early in the morning so I could indulge my inner face-painter and paint eyepatches, scars and the obligatory anchor tattoo on each of the girls.

    They immediately embraced their pirate characters and began stomping around the kitchen yelling “AARGH” and talking about things being “SCURVY” and “TAKING PRISONERS”. In the middle of all this pirate debauchery, P walked into the kitchen. Caroline walked right up to him and yelled, “AARGH!! I’M A PIRATE!” and then, AND THEN, she spit on him. If she had walked up and slapped him he would not have been more shocked.

    He slowly asked, “Did you just SPIT on me?”

    “Yes”, she replied quietly as the weight of what she’d just done began to settle and her pirate bravado began to waver.

    Fortunately, P is a man that understands a person can get carried away in a moment. Anyone who’s been known to throw a can opener down the street after it fails to work properly isn’t really a person who can judge someone else’s inappropriate reaction. He looked at her and said, “There is no reason to EVER spit on another person. Do you understand?”

    “Yes, sir.”

    And then we sent her out the door with a hug and kiss as I called out the reminder I’d always imagined giving my daughter, “REMEMBER TO BE A KIND PIRATE. DON’T SPIT ON ANY OF YOUR FRIENDS.”

    By the time I picked the girls up at the end of the day, the eyepatches and anchors were long gone. I could tell they were exhausted, but were also WOUND UP and I was treated to several loud renditions of their camp cheer. We dropped Gabi off and Caroline asked if she could go inside to play for awhile. I said no because it was late and time for dinner and that’s when she began her soliloquy about the unfairness of life and how it relates to discrimination against pirates.

    By the time we drove the five minutes home, she was in tears. And I had the audacity to tell her she was just tired, which caused her head to spin around as she growled, ” I AM NOT TIRED. QUIT SAYING I AM TIRED.”

    So I did.

    Until I forgot and said it again three minutes later.

    Then I told her she needed to hurry up and eat dinner so she could take a shower and get in bed. BUT SHE DIDN’T WANT TO TAKE A SHOWER. I’m not sure when she turned into a ten-year-old boy, but she was outraged at my old-fashioned idea that she should practice proper hygiene.

    She argued, “But Mama, tomorrow’s theme is County Fair and everyone knows that you get stinky at a County Fair.”

    I didn’t want to admit she’d just made an excellent point, so instead I said, “You’re tired. You need to get in the shower RIGHT NOW.”

    And I think she might have growled at me under her breath.

    But she took a shower, put on her pajamas and fell fast asleep in approximately 2.1 seconds. Here’s hoping I can do the same because something tells me I’m going to need all my strength for County Fair Day.

  • The lesser known colors of the rainbow

    I’m sure you’ll be relieved to know that I took a Benadryl at 9:55 last night and went immediately to bed where I slept the sleep of an angel who resorts to first generation antihistamines to ensure she gets her beauty rest. It was 6:50 a.m. before I even moved and that was only when Caroline woke me up. Yesterday was her first day of day camp and SHE WAS TOO EXCITED TO SLEEP ANY LONGER BECAUSE THE FUN! SHE MUST HAVE IT!

    As I slaved over a nutritious breakfast of Eggo Homestyle Waffles we discussed camp and all the fun things she had in store. I told her she was on the Blue Team which means she’s supposed to wear blue on Friday. She pointed to a sheet of paper sitting on the kitchen island and then to a paper plate as she asked, “Is it more like this shade of blue or that one?”

    I motioned to the paper plate and replied, “It’s more like that one”.

    She said, “Oh, then it’s a cerulean blue”.

    Yes. Thanks for clarifying, Martha Stewart.

    Next thing I know she’s going to ask for a vermilion shirt or a pair of pants in a nice shade of cerise.

  • Of rats and toilets

    I feel like I need to let you know up front that you probably should refrain from watching this video if you are a fan of rats. You may also want to avoid watching if you have a fear of finding a rat in your toilet. Which is not a fear I’ve ever experienced before because I always thought the whole rat-in-the-toilet thing was just an urban legend, but all that has changed and rat in the toilet has been added to my list o’ random fears and phobias.

    Other things on that list include eating water chestnuts, camping on the beach, the circus, and acid-washed jeans. Also, having a rat throw a piece of half-eaten burned toast at me because that actually happened once and I’m still not over it. Of course I could say the same thing about the acid-washed jeans.

    Anyway, the following is Caroline’s rat experience.

    The Rat from Big Mama on Vimeo.

    A few things:

    1. We actually made this video a few weeks ago and I forgot all about it because my short-term memory isn’t what it used to be.

    2. I would say I fall solidly in the “freak you out” category.

    3. P is my hero. He ran and got his gloves. If I’d been there I would have found a gas can and a match and burned the place to the ground.

    4. Love the term “smackin’ on him”.

    5. Yes, she is the sassiest one in the family. It’s not even a contest.

  • Let freedom and aloe vera ring

    If I measured our Fourth of July fun based on the level of pain I’m experiencing from the sparkler-induced blister on the bottom of my foot, then it’s safe to say that we had a grand old time. But, hypothetically speaking, if you ever decide it might be fun to light two Morning Glory sparklers at the same time and hold them together to create maximum fireworks excitement, you might want to rethink that decision. Apparently this generates an excess amount of gunpowder or whatever and can cause sparks to shoot in eleven different directions, one of which might be the inside of your flip-flop.

    Our weekend started off on a sad note. P took our dog Bruiser to the vet on Friday morning because let’s just say Bruiser had been experiencing some digestive unpleasantries that made me want to hose down the backyard with Clorox. Caroline and I were at a birthday party when P called to let me know our vet couldn’t figure out the problem and it didn’t look good. I spent the rest of the party worried about Bruiser and debating whether or not I should prepare Caroline. When we left to go home I explained Bruiser was very, very sick and may not come home from the doctor and then I prepared myself for the tears. She looked into my eyes and said, “Mama, if he doesn’t make it can we get a kitten?”

    Clearly she was all torn up about it.

    Anyway, by Saturday morning the vet called to let us know Bruiser was doing much better after a night of I.V. fluids and could probably go home on Monday. But then he called yesterday and said they wanted to keep him one more night for further observation. So the good news is Bruiser is going to make it. The bad news is, after we pay his vet bill, he will probably be the only member of our family to go on a summer vacation. Meanwhile, as I write this, our vet is probably booking a trip to some swanky resort in Colorado to get away from the Texas heat.

    But back to our non-dog related portion of the weekend.

    Our neighborhood has a Fourth of July parade every year except this year it was on the Third of July. P brought the Polaris home from the ranch and he and Caroline spent Saturday morning getting it all decorated to take part in the festivities.

    And then they met up with a bunch of Caroline’s friends and they all piled in the back to wave to the crowd.

    I walked down the parade route with some friends so we could wave and cheer as they passed by.

    The parade ended about ten minutes after it started and we all met at the park for cookies and lemonade and to be led in a few patriotic songs by a man wearing red socks that came up to the middle of his calf. It doesn’t really get more American than that.

    Later in the day we went over to Mimi and Bops’ house because they were having a little pool party to celebrate the 4th on the 3rd. (I don’t know why I wrote “little pool party”. It makes it sound like we were all hanging out around one of those plastic pools you get for $6.00 outside of Walmart.) Caroline decided she wanted to spend the night with them and so I went home and fell asleep for the next hour and a half. God bless America.

    On Sunday afternoon we headed up to the pool to enjoy the Fourth of July festivities. Rumor had it there was going to be some line-dancing later that evening, so our plan was to get there and get out before all the fake dancing ensued. Fortunately, we arrived just in time for the belly flop contest which is Caroline’s favorite event.

    She walked slowly down the board.

    She executed the perfect flop.

    Can we please pause for a moment and discuss the odds of me getting that mid-air shot with my sad little point and shoot camera and horrendous photography skills? A million to one shot, Doc, a million to one shot.

    And she won fourth place.

    Personally, I think she was robbed. Especially now that I’ve seen the photographic evidence that her execution was flawless. But she received a medal and that was her ultimate goal. She is all about the medals.

    After the medal ceremony our champion belly-flopper relaxed with a cookies and cream ice cream sandwich.

    Later that night we came home and cooked hot dogs on the grill because we believe in our fundamental right to pursue liberty and happiness in the form of processed meat covered in sweet relish. While waiting on it to get dark outside we turned on the July 4th celebration at the Capitol to watch the fireworks. We explained why we celebrate the Fourth of July to Caroline and stressed how fortunate we are to have the freedom we have and how men and women fought and died for us.

    A few minutes later she asked, “So is today the day that England celebrates the Day of Shame?”

    The Day of Shame.

    I can think of several days in my own life that should be referred to as The Day of Shame (like the day I permed my bangs in 1987) but as far as I know it’s not an officially recognized holiday in England or anywhere else.

    Once it got dark we went outside with our enormous supply of sparklers.

    And a few other pyrotechnics that might have been against the law.

    And before that night was over, P had a big blister on his hand and I had one on the bottom of my foot. So I guess it ended up being our Night of Shame.

    And aloe vera.

  • I feel like I should apologize for the photo quality

    If the sign of a good time is how many wardrobe changes you have in a twelve hour time period, then someone had a very, very good weekend.

    (Listen, I don’t know how I managed to completely cut her head off in this picture. I’m a horrible, horrible photographer)

    Let us not speak of the laundry.

  • Pool towel bingo

    The air-conditioning is working again.

    I repeat, the air-conditioning is working.

    The guy showed up around noon yesterday to install the new motor. He also checked out our other unit to make sure it wasn’t circling the drain and said everything looked good. Then, on the way out the door, he said, “Just make sure you call us this winter before you turn on your heat. Your unit is over seven years old and that’s around the time it can crack and cause carbon monoxide to leak throughout your home and you’ll go to bed one night and never wake up.”

    Wow. I was not expecting that.

    Needless to say, all my neurotic tendencies kicked in and I turned to November 1st in my planner and penciled in, “Call to get heat checked so we don’t all die”. You have to admit he knew his audience.

    Anyway, I’m feeling much better today and not just because it no longer feels like I’m sitting on the equator. Gulley knew I needed a little time to myself (mainly because I might have called her crying yesterday and said, “I just need a few hours to myself.”) and offered to pick up Caroline from soccer camp and let her play with Jackson and Will for a little while.

    I felt so bad saying I needed a little time to myself but ever since summer began Caroline has been in love with me. She wants to be everywhere I am and there is no such thing as personal space. And while I am so thankful and love her more than life itself, we’ve been inseparable for the better part of a month and the introvert who lives inside me just needed a little time to breathe. (Yes, I am a little bit of an introvert. I just play an extrovert on the internet.)

    Later on in the afternoon, I met Gulley and the kids at the pool. We swam and watched the kids jump off the diving board and caught up on important current events like General McChrystal’s resignation, the earthquake in Canada, why the local sportscasters only talk about the Spurs and not the College World Series, and which bachelor we think Ali should choose. (Chris L. is the frontrunner with Roberto at a distant second.)

    After we were worn out from swimming, we ate dinner at the pool and while we were finishing up we heard Coach announce that it was time for “almost moonlight bingo”. Listen, we had no idea that it was bingo night at the pool. It was just a gift from God.

    Will was beside himself and immediately yelled “YAHOO BINGO!!” and hit Gulley up for a dollar so he could play. He had his game face on and repeated everything Coach said with great enthusiasm. “I-64!!! G-7!!! N-22!!!”

    Then P got up to go refill his water and Coach saw him walk up and started calling his name over the loudspeaker, “P! COME AND GET YOUR BINGO CARD, P! TIME FOR P TO PLAY A LITTLE BINGO!”

    Caroline thought it was the most hysterical thing she’d ever experienced.

    When Jackson and Caroline saw how much Will was enjoying his game of Bingo they decided to play as well.

    Although they lacked a little of his passion for the game. Ultimately they got up and wandered back off to the pool to swim a little bit more. Then Will decided to follow them.

    So there Gulley and I sat, just the two of us, playing our Bingo cards. She looked at me and said, “I guess this is a glimpse of our future at the retirement community.”

    And then we laughed until we cried.

    It was a good day.