Birthday Brouhaha

Outside water party. 28 kids. Assorted parents. 85 degree heat. Thunderstorms threatening to send everyone inside.

That was our Saturday. Luckily, the rain held off, the kids had fun, and we got to show off our finished landscaping. J7.0's joint birthday party with two of her friends was a big success. She also received a bunch of gifts that were completely baffling to her uncool parents. The pic to the left is a Liv doll. I'd never heard of them, but they're 4 dolls who are BFFs. They're also able to be posed in lots of crazy ways. This entertains my husband - when he's not freaked out because they're looking at him. ANYways, it took like 6 hours to get the stupid thing out of its packaging. It had all the security that airports only wish they had. Twist ties, rubber bands, clips, tape, string - this thing had it all. Eventually, we coaxed it to emerge into the big, open world.

J has obviously seen and played with these dolls before. The first thing she did was rip its hair off. I freaked out, first because hey, she ripped its hair off. Then I got a closer look at the doll and was like,"Mom?!". But anyone else who's seen my mom would know that my mom would never leave the house with hair that flat. The resemblance was uncanny other than that though.

Needless to say, after half an hour, we were missing one of the doll's earrings, the scarf was under the couch, and the wigs were stacked one on top of the other. It was a great look for the doll. Really.

I'm sure that this whole experience will be great fodder for my writing... when I can look back at it and not shudder in remembered horror. It was a successful event, but just a bit traumatizing all in all.

Kids - Mildly Funny Things I Overheard

Yeah, I know. Kids say the darndest things, right? I swore to myself that I wouldn't turn my blog into an accounting of my kids and all the funny stuff they do. But the following snippets made me laugh, so I'll share. Then we'll be back to our regularly scheduled book goodness.

1. We were praying the other night before bed, and E4.2 asked God for new parents. I kid you not. My sister, C, witnessed it and almost snorted herself sick (when she wasn't pointing and laughing at us). Near as we can figure, this came about because we'd been talking that day about the fact that while I have my own parents, I also now have a mom and dad in-law who I didn't have when I was younger, so I got more parents, in a sense. She wants more too.
   
   
2. E4.2 was playing with her prince/princess/horse figurines, and the conversation she created between them at one point, went like this:
   Prince: "Okay. That's it for me."
   Random Princess: "What?!?!? But we just started playing! You can't quit now!"
   Prince: "Yes I can. You see..." *pause for dramatic effect* "I'm the bad guy!" *oh noes!*
   Random Princess who doesn't put up with silly little bad guys: "No you're not," *scoffing* "You're just wearing his costume." And they went back to playing, Prince included. The moral of this story is, you can't just dress like a bad guy. You have to be the bad guy.
   
   
3. At a b-day party for one of J6.11's friends, the birthday boy received some silly bands from his friend. (If you don't know what these demonic items are, go ask any kid from age 4 to 18. They'll look at you like you're an idiot, roll their eyes, and thrust their arm in your face so you can look at the twisted, obscurely colored bands encasing their arms. Enjoy.) After all the congratulations and jealous moaning were past, the gift giver pointed out their superior features in used-car salesman glory. "See! They're tie-dyed AND they glow in the dark!" While all the other kids were oohing and aahing, one kid looked down his nose a the gift-giver and said "Yeah, but do they have smells?" The gift-giver's face fell and he mumbled, "No." And the other kids had a new silly-band hero.

Links and Contests!!

Dear Author is doing their usual ACE/ROC giveaway - there's even a new (gasp!) BOY urban fantasy series starting up in there!!! It looks good. The last Weather Warden series book by Rachel Caine is also up for grabs, as well as Magic Bleeds by Ilona Andrews (but everyone on the planet should already have that one... and if you don't, consider yourself slapped silly.)

OMG The Hoff in a ninja movie (Dancing Ninja at that) and his character name is... WAIT FOR IT...

Ansel Ladouche.

My world is complete. Thanks to Smart Bitches, Trashy Books for the heads-up

Completely unrelated to the Hoff, B&N is giving you a free $50 gift card to start filling your e-library if you purchase a nook "for a limited time". You may walk out of a B&N with your nook or order one on-line. Either way, now's a good time to pick one up. Not mention the free e-books they give you each week. And the cookies and 7-Layer bars from the cafe when you show them the coupon on your nook. I heart my nook.

Go forth and enjoy your day!

I'm doomed by clever kids

My husband and I are both smart people. Little doubt our kids would be smart. But they amaze me all the time. I was told that I had to post this story about E3.11, so here it is:

Recently, E3.11 climbed up on my bed where I was laying, staring at the ceiling. Instead of cuddling in next to me, she stretched out on top of me, so we were both laying there, staring up. Then she farted on me. It was loud, long and stank. The conversation following it went like this:

Me: "Oh, gross E3.11! You don't climb up here and fart on me! Go fart on daddy!"

E3.11: "I didn't fart." (in between giggles)

Me: "Uh, yeah, you did and it was disgusting."

E3.11: "No I didn't."

Me: "Yes. You did. Don't lie to me."

E3.11: "I did not fart. Just ask Sister."

Then she shifted a little bit to the right, looked back at where she had been and said in a slightly deeper voice: "She's telling the truth. She did not fart."

She slid back over to her original position and using her normal voice, said: "See. Even Sister agrees. I didn't fart."

Can you believe that she came up with that?!?!?!? Not even 4 years old, and she's creating eye-witnesses to defend a lie. She's headed for a life of crime. But she's cute and silly and keeps us smiling.

And she didn't fart. Even Sister agrees, and you can't argue with that.

Curses!

Today's post is all about curses and threats. Lately, I've been noticing the various curses/threats that authors put into their books - the characters get frustrated, angry, injured, snarky or whatever, and the bad words start flying. Inventive curses or threats can really add dimension to a story and increase its entertainment value. Two stories really did that for me recently: Street Magic by Caitlin Kittredge and Demon Forged by Meljean Brook.

In Street Magic, the tone is very gritty - supernatural dregs of humanity sort of stuff. Its threats are accordingly um, colorful. Yeah, colorful... Most of them start out with the threatener's foot going up the unfortunate victim's ass, but what happens from there is where the entertainment kicks in (no pun intended). I was laughing out loud at some of the threats, and coming up with so many unique ones had to be a challenge. When I start the second book in that series, I've decided to make a list of all the curses, just as a writing awareness exercise.

Irena in Meljean Brook's Demon Forged is a bit barbaric, so her curses and insults focused heavily on animal-involved romantic exploits. Now, I'm not in favor of animal smexxing, but calling someone a 'serpent-f*cking whatever' brings up funny mental images. Irena was also an equal opportunity blasphemer - no animal was subjected to the same humiliation twice, so by the end it was entertaining just to see what animal would be picked on next.

Can't come up with any good obscenities? Not a problem. Online random generator site, Serendipity, has a Cuss-o-matic to help you out. Some of the curses it generates are pretty silly, but it's a good way to get started. I'm particularly fond of "Flaming mother of a pestilent kangaroo-abusing scorpion!" Ah, good times.

Have you guys heard or read any good curses or threats recently?

Smooth Operator

This morning, J6.7 had some bathroom commitments (Yes - 'some' not 'a') this morning that precluded her catching the bus. That meant that mommy had to brave the school drop-off line. Horrors! I was a bit peeved and a lot nervous, like driving downtown in an unfamiliar city. I really didn't want to do this. It's a school - there would be kids running around, parents in a rush to get to work, a drop-off process that I knew nothing about, and I was sure, about a dozen unwritten rules of drop-off protocol and expectations. I vaguely remembered a notice from last year telling all drop-off parents not to turn left into the parking lot or something like that, so I might end up having to turn around somewhere and backtrack. And what if J6.7 expressed another bathroom commitment on the way? These were just a few of my concerns. But I mom'ed up and got started.

Traffic was a nightmare and I had to employ some creative merging just to make it to the school on time. Luckily, there wasn't a big fire-breathing dragon waiting at the lot to roast me if I put on my left turn signal, so I darted in before they decided to employ one. I waited in the line, keeping an eye out for subtle signals from other parents that something "just wasn't done". And as we went, I kept up a running commentary to J6.7. "Okay hun, we're almost up there. Now don't unbuckle yet, but when we get up there, I'll stop and open up E3.10's door. You get out her door because it's on the side at the sidewalk. Don't forget your bookbag. Watch out for the blanket on the floor of the van back there - don't want you tripping and falling. Now, you go right to your classroom, just as if you'd gotten off the bus, okay? Unless the teachers tell you to do something different. Then do whatever they say. Got it? Alright, we're almost there. One more group of drop-offs and then it'll be our turn. Don't forget - go out E3.10s door. Not yours. Okay, here we go." Yes, I know - I'm an idiot.

So we get up there, I braked to a stop at the front of the line, hit the button to open E3.10's door and nothing happened. Right. Can't do that with the van in gear. I jammed the van into Park, and hit the button again. This time it worked. J6.7 fumbled her way out (no, she didn't trip on the blanket, but I'm sure she would have if I hadn't mentioned it... Riiiiiight) and set off for the building. I hit the button again to close the door. But I had gloves on and fat-fingered the back hatch button at the same time. So the side door closes and the trunk opens, complete with warning beeps and everything. I R cool... and even more of an idiot than you all originally thought. Whatever cool points I had (and there weren't many because I'm a mom in a mini-van), jumped out the back and abandoned me right there.

We are, er, were so proud...

Like most kids her age, the world revolves around J6.6. Every event or person that brushes her life is assigned an importance ranking based entirely upon how it or they affect her. The husband and I realize that it's just how kids are, and she's a good kid in general - it's not like she's amoral (except where it concerns E3.9) or sociopathic. So we just have an ongoing campaign to make sure that she realizes how things affect other people, even if she really doesn't care about it right now.

Now, some big things make an impression on her, like the situation in Haiti - that's been on the news and talked about by us and at school enough that she's aware that it's a very tragic occurrence and is causing lots of suffering. But the small stuff? Eh.

The other day, we were praying before bed, and it was J6.6's turn to pray. She said, "And please watch over Miss Joyce's mom and help her to get better quickly-"

At this point, my husband and I reared back in surprise. She prayed for someone else - someone not in our family! It was so completely unselfish and we were just amazed. We traded congratulatory smiles at a job well-done on our part as parents. Yeah! We had this parenting stuff down! We were raising a child who would be a good, caring addition to society and we basked in that knowledge. Proudly, we waited for her to finish.

"- without Miss Joyce having to go up and be with her, because I don't want a temporary bus driver. Amen."

Commence un-basking.

So, I Got a Free Cookie!

It was a giant cookie - like 6 inches across, and a soft, sugary mass of chocolate goodness. Did I mention that it was free? My nook gave it to me. I heart my nook.

My in-laws got the Barnes & Noble nook for me for my birthday last month, and I love it. Everything that everyone else loves about it... I do too. And today it gave me a cookie. A free cookie. Barnes & Noble has the in-store content working for nookaphiles. I was in our local B&N and checked out my nook to see what special stuff I could do in-store, and there was my coupon for a free cookie! How cool is that!?!? All I had to do was show the screen to D at the cafe, and I walked away with a cookie and a (slightly) maniacal giggle. I have since told at least half a dozen friends and my dental receptionist about this, and now I'm telling YOU. You think I'm joking about the dental receptionist, but I'm not.

Anyways, my husband has been mocking my giddiness ever since. I don't think it's fair for him to mock me and then eat the majority of the cookie, do you? No. It's not right.

What is right is a free cookie. Only 258 more dollars worth of coupons and my nook will have paid for itself! Or it would have if I'd actually paid for it in the first place...

Catch-Up

I've hardly blogged at all lately, I know. The sad thing is that I've hardly written anything either. I'm averaging a whopping 1000 words per week for the last two weeks. Yikes! This full-time job gig has put even more of a cramp in my writing progress than I had hoped. After the holidays though, I plan to devote some time each morning to my writing. For now I'm just trying to get by.

Oddly enough, I'm getting no sympathy about this from my full-time-job/writing-on-the-side friends. Go figure.

And now, brought to you yet again by our dinner table...

E3.8 climbed into her chair for dinner the other day and immediately said, "Ow! My peanuts hurt!"

My husband and I exchanged confused looks. She didn't sound hurt and she didn't have peanuts of any sort, either food or toy related. "Eh?" I said, seeking clarification.

E3.8 laughed and shouted again, "Ow! My peanuts hurt!"

By this time, I knew what she meant. And I could tell by the way that my husband was incredibly interested in the sheet of scrap paper our kids had plastered with stickers, that he had clued into the situation also. I sighed. It was up to me. "Who did you hear saying that?"

"Darius! Darius says it all the time!"

So apparently, Darius at the daycare manages to injure his manly parts on a frequent basis while climbing into chairs. But how do I address this? Avoidance seemed like the best option to me, I mean, she's only 3. Then J6.5 decided to wade into the battle.

Being a first grader, J6.5 is much more worldly than her sheltered and delicate younger sister (cough, cough). J6.5 rolled her eyes, heaved out a put-upon sigh at this evidence of her sister's ignorance, and says with all the superiority an older sister can muster (and I am very familiar with this), "E3.8." Another sigh. "Girls don't have peanuts. Boys do. Darius has peanuts because he's a boy. You're a girl, so you don't have them. And they're right here," she says, pointing helpfully.

Gah! Why me!?!?!? My husband is now hiding behind the Christmas tree. Thanks, dear. We all know that kids can be mean to each other. I couldn't let J6.5 continue with her erroneous naming of the male physiology, because what if she gets mocked for not knowing what the right term is... On the other hand, J6.5 is allergic to peanuts, and is extremely afraid of coming into contact with any. This could be a good way to get an early handle on keeping the boys and their nefarious parts away from my little girl. If only we could be assured that she wouldn't figure out our misdirection before she hits those tricksy teen years. Yeah, probably not much chance of that.

Needless to say, I corrected Julia's mistake, even spelling it for her, at which point my husband decided it was time for dinner and came to the table. End story.

Why me?

Ravioli was on the menu the other night. J6.4 had helped me set the table. Partway through dinner, this is what happens:

J6.4: (clears throat) "Dad, guess what?" (very smooth, nothing happening kind of voice)
Husband: (in between bites of ravioli) "What?"
J6.4: "I rubbed your fork on my butt when I set the table." (bursts into laughter)

Now, J6.4 has a contagious laugh. It comes from deep in her belly, and completely takes over her body. When she starts laughing like that, you can't help but laugh too. So we all started laughing uproariously, even my husband who's sitting there with a mouthful of ravioli and a sick look on his face.

I thought this was a story worth sharing, so I grabbed the cell phone and called my bro-in-law, UncleR. He'd appreciate the trauma his younger brother was being put through by the offspring. Then we had to discuss Thanksgiving plans, and their new house, and eventually I got up from the table and went in the other room so I could hear. I finished the phone call and came back to finish eating with everyone else.

Husband: (After a few bites) "So how's the ravioli?"
Me: (Thinking through this because this was a new brand of ravioli, but ya know, frozen ravs are frozen ravs. So I finally decided on an eloquent: ) "Eh."
Husband: "Good. Because you have the butt fork now."

More uproarious laughter. I kid you not. This is my life.

So then yesterday, we were playing a marathon game of Uno. Poor J6.4 kept getting hit with the Draw 2's and 4's. After her 3rd Draw Four in about 8 minutes, she mutters under her breath, "Someone's gonna get their fork rubbed."

You've Got to be Kidding Me...

I was working at B&N earlier this week, and I came across a few books whose titles were disturbingly ironic. Let's evaluate, shall we?

1. Teaching for Dummies - Now, do we really want dummies teaching anyone, er... anything? Seriously. It should have one page in it that says "Please don't." Then the whole rest of the book could be pages reading "This page intentionally left blank."
2. Evolution for Dummies - Isn't one of the whole points of evolution to put paid to dummy propagation? So is the entirety of the book and attempt to explain to said dummy why we want him/her out of the gene pool?
3. Birthing from Within - Um, duh? Where else would it be coming from? It's not like any woman is interested in reversing that process...

So what do you think? Should we have a competition to see who can come up with the worst/funniest book title?

For Real - At least my writing isn't that bad... (I hope)

While browsing through Miss Snark's archives in search of the synopsis info, I found a post of hers that was hilarious. If you enjoy mocking other people's use of grammar or turn of phrase, this one is for you. Yes, sis #3, I'm talking to you. And to you, mom-in-law. And to you, critique-partner M. And... man, I should just dedicate this to all my friends I guess. We all seem to have that love in common. ;)

Here it is.

I think we need to vote on our favorites, although there are so many horribly good ones. I was going to list some of my favorites, but once I got to 7 that made me laugh out loud, I just stopped. You might not make it through all of them, but save the link and come back when you need a laugh (although you too may find yourself "supressing the urge to smile out loud").

Later!