“I grab the produce quickly, not taking the time to pretend I know what makes a watermelon good, and I rush back to hug him dramatically. ‘OH BABY!’ I fake-sob…”
I’ve decided to keep my baby. Read more at Parenting.com.
Personal Blog of Author Kathryn Thompson
by Kathryn
“I grab the produce quickly, not taking the time to pretend I know what makes a watermelon good, and I rush back to hug him dramatically. ‘OH BABY!’ I fake-sob…”
I’ve decided to keep my baby. Read more at Parenting.com.
by Kathryn
by Kathryn
Things are strange around here.
Shaq has a new reality show where his image consultant has him helping obese kids lose weight. It’s getting good reviews and the premise seems promising. Here are a few quotes from the first episode that make me think it will be the best, most sensitive insightful reality show about children EV-ER:
“Of course they’re gonna tell me the truth. I’m a superstar.”
“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything this pathetic in my entire life. It disgusts me.”
“We’re gonna have to turn up the heat on these kids.” Then he smashes a bottle… because he CARES.
by Kathryn
My awesome new biologist neighbor has been teaching me all sorts of interesting things about gardening, healthy living and home décor. She took me on a tour of my backyard introducing me to all my botanical friends, makes the most amazing organical foods and I plan on stealing several of her decorating ideas for my house, which has an identical floor plan to hers.
She is kind, listens to Laylee talk for hours and I recently found out that she practices homeopathic medicine as a hobby. I’ve always loved the word “homeopath” because in my world that’s how you would make a contraction of the words “homicidal” and “psychopath.”
I was coming home from the doctor the other day where I’d gone for help clearing up my randomly swollen eye and my neighbor told me to come over so we could come up with a natural remedy.
I tried the antibiotic drops for one day and found no change. So the next day I walked next door to Dr. Nat for some advice. She looked up my symptoms in a big fat book, packaged up some remedies and materials in a ziplock, wrote down instructions and sent me home with the strict advice not to use any chamomile, tobacco, alcohol, or mint while doing the treatment, not even toothpaste. (No whiskey-flavored Colgate. Check.) I was also not to touch the herbs with my hands or with metal utensils.
I followed all her instructions exactly and the sty was gone in less than 24 hours so I broke down, pulled out Old Bessy and whipped up some minty fresh breath. When I woke up this morning the sty was back but in the OTHER eye! I am being smitten by the Homeopathic Gods Against Oral Hygeine. Have you ever heard of the HGAOH? They’re big players in the Tarter Wars. They’re for it.
So now I’m left to choose whether to continue to look like a cyborg or knock Dan out with my halitosis.
by Kathryn
This weekend we wrangled all six bebes into our minivans and headed downtown for the obligatory Guests-In-Town-Must-See-Water visit to Pike Place Market and the pier in Seattle.
Shortly into the drive I noticed my cell phone was missing. Should we go back? Not by the peanut butter smears on their chinny chin chins! There was no way I was turning the wagon train around for something as unimportant as my main communication device.
A minute later I remembered I had forgotten my medicine. Not a chance I was going back for it.
About 10 minutes into the drive, I remembered that I’d forgotten to bring any female accoutrements to keep my visiting “Aunt Flo” in check. Hmmm… I was sure I could pick something up in a public restroom once we got downtown. We soldiered on.
So, it turns out that there is not a single tampon on the entire waterfront boardwalk in Seattle, not a pad, not a remotely sturdy Kleenex. Nada. From one end of the pier to the other I searched public restrooms. There aren’t many. The main women’s room had two stalls, one with a working toilet, one with a door. You could take your pick but neither had a tampon machine.
I went into restaurants that had signs proclaiming “Restrooms for Customers Only” and found that they were equally unequipped.
I asked my friends, their friends, store clerks from Ye Olde Curiosity Shop to Ivars, random women on the street. Nobody had ANYTHING. Well, I got some strange looks from a few people, people who I’m sure did have a tampon in their pocket but were put off by a panhandler with two children, walking like a penguin down the pier and offering to work for feminine hygiene products.
“I bet she’ll just sell them on the black market to buy Dr. Pepper. I bet those aren’t her real kids. She’s probably not even a woman,” I’m sure they were thinking as they clutched their purses and walked on.
Seriously. How much of an emergency must it have been for me to be approaching random strangers? Anyone female and possibly premenopausal was fair game but no one admitted to having anything. By the time we made it to the Aquarium, I was really desperate.
I walked in and asked a greeter to let me into the restrooms. I offered to pay admission if I needed to. The place was packed but she ushered me past the lines. She didn’t know if there was anything available in the restrooms. The restrooms were new. Today was the grand opening of the new facility. Sadly there was nothing. She took me to her supervisor and whispered something in her ear.
“Hmmm… I’m not sure. Maybe in the restroom of the Life on the Edge exhibit.”
What a fitting title. I was definitely on the edge of something.
“I’ll take anything,” I said. “I’ve been going up to random strangers on the street begging. I have no pride left.”
“Wait a second. I may have something here.” She pulled a small green package from her pocket.
AHHHH!!!! And I loved her and we have formed a lasting bond of friendship.
This year on the Fourth of July I plan on hiring a float. It will have dancers performing a Mia Michaels contemporary routine, kazoo players and on a platform in the center will be me — shooting feminine hygiene products like a hail storm from a rocket propelled launcher of some kind. “Accoutrements” will cover the ground in a way never before seen by the citizens of Seattle and they will weep, some with joy and some with embarrassment.
And I will be avenged.
Or maybe I’ll just start carrying extras in my glove box.
by Kathryn
My kids think I’m a little slow and with my left eyelid swollen up like a kalamata olive today, I may look a little dim but I’m actually quite a smart lady.
by Kathryn
And now for installment 4 of The Series:
Finally a shelf big enough for my VCR!!
After Gandalf was reborn, he invented his own line of cleaning products.
The trees are lonely.
Whoever said faux sheepskin covers were just for your high school hoopty obviously didn’t have a lounger worth modernizing.
Who needs Orkin when you can simply hang a glowing sensor owl to scare away garden pests? I’m pleased to read that it is approved for indoor use and proven to amuse guests. I’m so sick of coming up with dinner conversation. This could solve at least half of our family’s current problems.
by Kathryn
Mine screams “THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE AND THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT PUNK!”
I claim the land. They reclaim it. I install patio lights (or Dan installs them but the blog’s about me and they were my idea so I’ll say I install them) and the kids sprinkle tiny sand mounds on the solar panels of each one.
This gnome makes me happy because it reminds me of Magoo, just not quite as fast or loud. Sometimes when I’m counting off to make sure all 2 of my children are accounted for, my tally gets messed up by his presence amidst the ivy.
The other day I was sitting on the lawn when Laylee came up behind me and said, “Mom look!” I made the mistake of looking. I turned my head to find her holding a severed rotting bird head by the beak just inches from my face.
I screamed. She laughed. Magoo became fascinated with the rest of the birdy’s remainders and all of its buggy friends.
by Kathryn
Sometimes I’m glad that my sister and good friend are willing to drive for eleventy billion hours to come visit me this whole week.
Sometimes I’m glad to have grownup ladies with me everywhere I go for a few days. It allows me some wiggle room on the whole “mature responsible mom” thing. These grownups sometimes wash my dishes, feed my kids and play games with me. I’d like to hire a grownup to live here full time and take care of us all. Grownup ladies are definitely worth having around.
Sometimes I’m glad that I don’t always have 6 kids under 5 living in my house. I can handle it for a week but SHEESH if I had a couple of sets of triplets I’d be a goner.
Sometimes I’m glad that in our culture, we can use “quotes” to make any statement “true”. Take these pitas for example.
Sometimes I’m glad that the kids go to the zoo just to ride on plastic horses who’ve been shish-kabobbed and bedazzled but then see real horses from the car window on the way home.
*It really is amazingly good. I think he could see the animals better in the dark than the light of day. Don’t worry. I frequently cook with garlic, carry a can of Coors with me at all times, and all of my stakes are made of wood.
by Kathryn
So my blogging slump is largely due to the week being dominated by my total lerve of So You Think You Can Dance. I so very much enjoy that show. Jeana can mock if she wants but I’m working out and when I get back in shape I will totally learn how to dance and win the whole taco on that show.
Laylee and I may audition together since she’s so good already and it may take a couple of years to lose these extra couple hundred pounds. This spare tire is throwing off my center of gravity on my pirouettes.
And I’m not only striving to out-dance Laylee. I’m also working on out-whining her…