Drops of Awesome

Personal Blog of Author Kathryn Thompson

Archives for July 2007

Voldemort Can’t Stop the Rock

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potters4Really really loud music in the library maybe sometimes sort of can stop the rock… if you’re attending the concert with small people, people who have tiny and delicate ears.

I’ve been boiling over with excitement to see my favorite literary-themed garage punk band Harry and the Potters live in concert ever since I was blown away with their original hit song This Book is So Awesome a few months ago.

Apparently they planned to hold a concert in their shed but when all the bands canceled, they wrote an entire CD in the course of an hour and performed it that night to an audience of themselves and their 5 friends. Out of that evening was born the legend that is Harry and the Potters.

Now they’ve released several albums and have all kinds of merchandise for sale. They’re touring the country to huge “sellout” crowds at mostly free concerts.

potters3We took Laylee and Magoo and stood in a gigantic line on Friday night outside the Seattle Public Library. The kids danced for money but were thrown none. I don’t know what this world’s coming to but when I see a 2-year-old in downtown Seattle, spinning on his head while waiting to get into a rock concert, I tend to throw down some coin.

I’m pretty sure our family would have won the award for the oldest AND youngest people in line. We would also have won the award for Least Obvious Wizard Costumes and Most Likely To Wear a Color Other Than Black.

potters2After dancing in line for an hour, we made our way into the library, up the giant lime green escalator and into the atrium. Music played on the speakers and Magoo rolled and boiled around on the floor, alternately playing dead and break dancing. At one point the ultra cool security guard said, “Nice moves man,” and at another I said, “Watch out dude or you’re gonna get squished by a goth tween.”

Then the Potters came out.

They sang Voldemort Can’t Stop the Rock.

potters5

We cheered and plugged little ears. Laylee cried that it was too loud and we headed home because it was bedtime and because I like standing in line for an hour to listen to 2 minutes of a concert. I am what they call “a mom.”

My only regret is that we didn’t hear them sing This Book is So Awesome.

Tip Tuesday — Road Trip Giveaway

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wash2Shannon says everyone’s doing giveaways and maybe she’s right…

Since moving to Seattle we’ve put thousands of miles on Vinny, driving back and forth to visit stubborn family all over the country who refuse to pick up stakes and move in next door.

I was even insane enough to travel alone with 2 kids, 14 hours each way to visit my parents this spring. Very seldom do I come across breakthroughs in travel with offspring. This 4th of July week, I came across two.

1. Wash the Car — Every time we stop for gas, the kids want to get out and run around. This usually involves yelling at calling loudly with love and logic to them as they dodge semi trucks in the parking lot, wrenching away the candy that they are loudly clutching to their bosoms in the convenience store and helping them collect cigarette butts in the “field” behind the trash bin.

No more!

washWe now play a new game entitled “Wash the Car” in which the children, in fact, cleanse the family vehicle. While Mommy’s pumping gas and daddy’s powdering his nose, the kids each get their own squeegee and are instructed to clean the car as well as they can until the car wash timer clicks. (It sounds a lot like the handle on a gas pump releasing.)

They love it, especially when the washing fluid is pink, and I feel a bit better paying $10/gallon for gas if they throw in a couple of gallons of fun for free.

toob32. Toobs of Joy — Until this trip, I had yet to find a toy that would keep my toddler busy for more than 30 seconds while he was strapped into our mobile torture chamber.

At the drugstore in our little town, the drugstore where the pharmacists have a baby swing and a pak-n-play behind the counter to keep their kids close at hand, I purchased a toob of joy.

Magoo sat with the Farm Toob on his lap and joyfully emptied out each animal, identified it loudly and then shoved it back in again. He continued like this for at least an hour. As far as I can remember, Magoo has never done anything for an hour since he spent that long keeping himself plugged in my nether-regions during child birth. Apart from one minor incident with a rooster wedged under his butt for a couple of hours, the Farm Toob experience was one of bliss and joy. They’re detailed, well-made and perfectly pudgy-fist-sized.

The Farm Toob is my favorite all time road trip toy and now I want to collect them all.

downonthefarmtoob

pettingzootoob

penguintoob


Even more than that, I want you to have them. So I called the manufacturer Safari LTD and they very kindly sent me two gift packs with three toobs each and some other fun stuff to give away to my readers.

Sadly they included no gift for me, but then I already have the Farm Toob and the memory of an hour of joy on the road.

Leave a comment to be put in a random drawing for the gift packs. I’ll draw 2 winners Friday July 20th at midnight PST.

I’d love to hear your road trip ideas, but you can just say, “Hi,” or, “Give me plastic,” and you’ll still be entered.

If you don’t win, you can buy them here, here, here and here. I’ll be buying them from ye olde tiny drugstore down the street.

***Update – The winners are comment #91 and #99, April C. and Seabird. Congratulations and thanks for all the great tips!***

Click to Read My Product Review Policy

My B-Boy

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My indoctrination of Magoo is nearly complete. At Grandma’s house he learned to do head spins.


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The other day in the car I was listening to an old Bread CD when Magoo got super excited and yelled, “HEY! MOM! Go dance!”

HEY! I went. I danced.

When a Destiny’s Child song came on the butt-shaking radio station, he got DOWN in his car seat (”˜Which song?’ you ask me. Does it really matter?). Mariah Carey was next and he would not so much as twitch to Emotions. Perhaps he is opposed to long runs that end in high notes only wee doggies can hear. Perhaps he was not a fan of Glitter. Whatever the reason, he refused even a direct command to shake it for mommy.

Me: Dance buddy.
Magoo: NO!
Me: Do you only dance to Destiny’s Child now?
Magoo: Yep.

Which saddens me greatly because as much as I like my kids listening to songs that teach them to “leave their men at home because the club is full of ballers with their pockets full grown”, and “all the mamas who profit dollas, throw your hands up at me,” I don’t currently own any of their compact discs.

And oh how I love to watch him get down.

So Help Me I’m Ready to Toss Everything

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It is hot and I want to throw things. Every possession in my house seems to be radiating heat and I feel that most of it must go, mostly the parts that belong to the children.

I am sticky and ooey and gooey and hot. I can’t sleep, I can’t stop whining, and there is no way to get as naked as I want to be and still get the grocery shopping done. This is the only time of year that I envy Magoo’s freedom to sport a dashing onesie in public.

Don’t get me wrong. I know that Seattle is no hotbed of summer boilery but since 90 degrees is considered a heat wave here, there is also no infrastructure for the cooling, no air conditioning, no swamp cooler, no bathtub full of ice to spend the day in. I do have an industrial fan which blows the hot air around in a way that almost tricks me into believing it’s only EIGHTY-five degrees in here. The only problem is that it’s so bleeping loud that I have to turn it off every few minutes so I can hear myself think.

When it’s off all I can think about is how hot I am, how hot Dan is (HOT DAN!), and how much I want to throw all of my children’s belongings away while they sleep. I’m fractious people, fractious and antsy.

This house is full of things, things that need to be put away and things that should never be put away unless “away” is in a waste receptacle or happy meal box. Then the happy meal box should be put in a waste receptacle. There are toys the kids have never played with, loud toys the kids have played with so much that my ear wack is vibrating, toys with a million small pieces spread equidistant from each other in every cranny of the estate, toys that make Laylee do things she knows she’s not allowed to, and toys that are just butt ugly. I hate butt ugly toys… and sweat.

I hate sweat, which makes me more angry at the toys. I really believe that they’re sucking the cool from the air and replacing it with not-cool. I want to pull every toy and puzzle piece out of every room, closet and kitchen cupboard, throw them into the living room until they’re waist-high, let the kids pick 3 toys each and give the rest to Good Will.

Next I’ll throw away polyester, Tupperware containers with no lids, clothes that don’t fit humans (dolls prefer to be naked anyway), my New Kids on the Block cassette tape, cables and cords not currently connected to a working electronic device, and anything green that’s too weak to defend itself. Maybe purple too, but only if it isn’t gold-trimmed.

(Okay. For real I was kidding about NKOTB. But dude, everything else goes.)

Back to Me

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I’m becoming obsessed with documentation, passports, social security cards, Canadian citizenship records for my kids who were both born in the U.S. The rules are changing for international travel and I just want us all to be prepared in the event we need to take an emergency flight to Hawaii or something. Do you need a passport to travel there? I know it’s like… a “state” and everything but you need a passport to travel to Canada now so it appears that nothing’s off limits. Or maybe everything is.

Strangely enough, the United States Social Security Administration website is enforcing some kind of curfew. Late last night I tried to search for the nearest office. I logged onto the site. I entered my zip code in the little box. The site came up with an error message:

We are sorry for the inconvenience, but the Social Security Office Locator is not available at this time. The service is available during the following hours (Eastern time):
Monday: 3:00 AM – 12:00 AM
Tuesday through Friday: 3:00 AM – 2:00 AM
Saturday: 3:00 AM – 11:00 PM
Sunday: 7:00 AM – 11:00 PM
Holidays: 3:00 AM – 11:00 PM

I don’t think the US government quite “gets” the internet. The internet does not need to take a potty break or a naptime. The internet is not subject to labor laws.

I can understand that the site may need periodic maintenance, but set hours? I think what they’re really doing is telling me to get my butt in bed and that stomps all over my [mumble] [mumble] amendment right to stay up late like an idiot.

And the Winners Are…

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The random winners of the Roadtrip Giveaway are April C. and Seabird. Congratulations and thanks to everyone for all the great tips!

If for any reason they are unable to fulfill their duties as plastic tube winners, we’ll draw more names at random.

Well Enough About Me

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Let’s talk about you for a minute. (Be sure to answer the questions at the end of the post!)

A while back I asked you all to fill out a survey for me. The results are in and they’re fascinating.

74% of Daring Young Mom readers are between the ages of 21 and 34. No one over 75 or under 18 admitted to reading this blog.

I’m surprised that only 3% of the readers surveyed were male. I’ve always been very popular with the men folk. Maybe they couldn’t handle my year-long period of lactational discourse shortly following Magoo’s birth.

Although I live near Seattle, I’m actually located in a very small town. A quarter of you also live in small towns or out in the country but more than half make your homes in the suburbs. For some reason, my blog does not appear to be massively appealing to the urban crowd.

Most of my readers are middle class but those few of you making over $500,000 annually, please email me. I’ve got some great ideas for how you could spread around the love.

Very few of you have more than 6 kids yet so I guess most of us are still getting started. We’d better get busy.

96% of my readers have had at least some college education. Rock on educated ladies! … and you few gentlemen.

Your political views are all over the place with the biggest portion of you (45%) listed as republicans.

Half of you have a valid passport. The rest of you should get on that if you want to visit my motherland any time soon. I’m working on getting one for Magoo tonight actually.

For the most part, you’re churchgoers, or at least you claim to be for internet research purposes – with the largest group, roughly a third of you, being Mormon.

Your occupations are so varied I think I could staff an entire mini-civilization with your expertise. I’ll let you know when there are job openings for the Daring New World.

You need to send more email, preferably to me.

More of you watch Saturday Night Live than any news show, more American Idol than The Office and if so many of you watch What Not To Wear, why have none of you nominated me to be on the show? I’d gladly be humiliated for an hour for the chance to get a whole new wardrobe.

You use the PCs, although I suspect that many of you like me dream of switching to the Mac.

You started reading blogs right around the same time I started this one.

You like your internet speed high and 62% of you have your own blog.

More than half of you use Blogger.

30% of you only read one blog per day. Awww… geee…. Thanks. Oh. You didn’t mean mine? I still like you.

You read blogs for humor, personality and perspective but you like mine anyway.

60% of you never use RSS to read blogs. It really makes life much easier, ya’ll. You can subscribe to all your favorite blogs on Bloglines and it keeps track of new posts for you.

Only half of you floss regularly. This makes me like you more. I won’t say why.

You talk on the cellular phones.

Tsk. Tsk. Only 18% of you believe in UFOs. I sure hope you all still believe in Santa.

There were a few questions not covered in the survey or in other surveys I’ve conducted. There are things I just need to know.

For today please answer one or more of the following 3 questions:

What percent milk do you drink?
How many of your kids are currently named Dirk?
Do you believe in dust mites?

Road Trip

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We just got back from a week-long visit with family.

We talked in the car… when we weren’t eating… which wasn’t often… unless our name was Dan.

[long silence]
Me: Are shrunken heads really shrunken heads or are they just made out of coconuts?
Dan: I don’t know.
Me: I wouldn’t think you could actually shrink a head because it’s made of bones. Do cannibals shrink heads manually or by magic?

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Laylee: Mom. Those people have all kinds of clothes in the back of their car. That probably means that wherever they’re going, they’re probably gonna spend the night, right?
Me: Yep. It sure does. Just like we did at grandma’s house!
Magoo: Truck. It’s ee truck!!
Me: Have you noticed that Magoo is way less verbal than Laylee was at his age?
Dan: Mmmmhmmm.
Me: Maybe it’s because he’s a boy.
Dan: [silence]
Me: Have you noticed that I’m way more verbal than you were at my age?