tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17035846359954508282024-02-19T01:18:25.927-08:00Hot Wheel HaciendaWhere every day is adventure, all the milk is chocolate, and there are miniature metal cars within a three foot radius of any spot you stand.BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.comBlogger193125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-6758054658737852362012-11-28T12:15:00.001-08:002012-11-28T12:15:27.369-08:00The 12 Days of Pirates<i>(Composed by Finn & Eli)</i><br />
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On the first day of Christmas a pirate gave to me: a parrot sitting on me.<br />
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On the second day of Christmas a pirate gave to me: two golden swords and a parrot sitting on me.<br />
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On the third day of Christmas a pirate gave to me: three peg legs, two golden swords and a parrot sitting on me.<br />
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On the fourth day of Christmas a pirate gave to me: four Jolly Rogers, three peg legs, two golden swords and a parrot sitting on me.<br />
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On the fifth day of Christmas a pirate gave to me: FIIIIIIVE TREEEAAAASURE CHESTS!<br />
Four Jolly Rogers, three peg legs, two golden swords and a parrot sitting on me.<br />
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On the sixth day of Christmas a pirate gave to me: six captain's hats, FIIIIIIVE TREEEAAAASURE CHESTS! Four Jolly Rogers, three peg legs, two golden swords and a parrot sitting on me.<br />
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On the seventh day of Christmas a pirate gave to me: seven evil curses, six captain's hats, FIIIIIIVE TREEEAAAASURE CHESTS! Four Jolly Rogers, three peg legs, two golden swords and a parrot sitting on me.<br />
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On the eighth day of Christmas a pirate gave to me: eight sharks a-swimming, seven evil curses, six captain's hats, FIIIIIIVE TREEEAAAASURE CHESTS! Four Jolly Rogers, three peg legs, two golden swords and a parrot sitting on me.<br />
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On the ninth day of Christmas a pirate gave to me: nine mateys fighting, eight sharks a-swimming, seven evil curses, six captain's hats, FIIIIIIVE TREEEAAAASURE CHESTS! Four Jolly Rogers, three peg legs, two golden swords and a parrot sitting on me.<br />
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On the tenth day of Christmas a pirate gave to me: ten British soldiers, nine mateys fighting, eight sharks a-swimming, seven evil curses, six captain's hats, FIIIIIIVE TREEEAAAASURE CHESTS! Four Jolly Rogers, three peg legs, two golden swords and a parrot sitting on me.<br />
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On the eleventh day of Christmas a pirate gave to me: eleven cannon balls, ten British soldiers, nine mateys fighting, eight sharks a-swimming, seven evil curses, six captain's hats, FIIIIIIVE TREEEAAAASURE CHESTS! Four Jolly Rogers, three peg legs, two golden swords and a parrot sitting on me.<br />
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On the twelfth day of Christmas a pirate gave to me: twelve eye patches, eleven cannon balls, ten British soldiers, nine mateys fighting, eight sharks a-swimming, seven evil curses, six captain's hats, FIIIIIIVE TREEEAAAASURE CHESTS! Four Jolly Rogers, three peg legs, two golden swords and a parrot sitting on me.</div>
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Repeat. Again and again. </div>
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Yep. </div>
BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com77tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-80076672972933467772012-05-07T09:19:00.000-07:002012-05-07T09:25:17.091-07:00The Twilight MonsterMy 7yo has started writing plays and storyboards as a hobby. I have no idea why he started doing this, but it has become all-encompassing for him. Most of his plays have swashbuckling knight-pirate-ninjas that battle epic monsters and face multiverses of adversity before they save the princess or find hordes of treasure.<br />
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His resources are limited, so he usually casts his brother as the dashing lead, with myself & Hotwheel Hubs as supporting characters and extras. I also usually provide catering. I'm not kidding when I say working with him can be grueling - he demands perfect performances from his cast and his rehearsals are often and brutal.<br />
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Without further ado, here's a sample of his latest production, <i>The Twilight Monster</i>.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMgmm5CyduqErIykvcW8pdXkZE1ef6K-UkxgNHcYyAUSrc_B2LXVYIq2qIC1mPaFdI5wMsId59ugQDEKcBr2qMdSBn6gnYXwfPx1DUV9i1AUx0Zm_JW8a_hpHDzndZnBvRqk9ir3SRpA/s1600/The+Twilight+Monster+1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMgmm5CyduqErIykvcW8pdXkZE1ef6K-UkxgNHcYyAUSrc_B2LXVYIq2qIC1mPaFdI5wMsId59ugQDEKcBr2qMdSBn6gnYXwfPx1DUV9i1AUx0Zm_JW8a_hpHDzndZnBvRqk9ir3SRpA/s320/The+Twilight+Monster+1.jpeg" width="187" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cover Art, which really has nothing to do with actual storyline.<br />
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</tbody></table>
VILLAGER (played by Mom)<br />
<i>Quick! The Twilight Monster has escaped! </i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJil95T8vp_auG1Kk1Bp1guMfeBQ5zgY0IsD4mh5ArVGUtF73WakK1fKIdpTlkb0lrAd5jF6xy6TF1jQAhqaQIITjbhxAiLpKYZK58fwTH1mPawAbgKb9BluWTCdawBuvUafPO9zF-Cw/s1600/The+Twilight+Monster+2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJil95T8vp_auG1Kk1Bp1guMfeBQ5zgY0IsD4mh5ArVGUtF73WakK1fKIdpTlkb0lrAd5jF6xy6TF1jQAhqaQIITjbhxAiLpKYZK58fwTH1mPawAbgKb9BluWTCdawBuvUafPO9zF-Cw/s320/The+Twilight+Monster+2.jpeg" width="246" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He did confess he was so busy with the story board he wrote the play in "actor language". </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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BRAVE KNIGHT (as played by his brother)<br />
<i>Never fear! The Knight will save your life! </i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Go0IGmvoVraAY3_A5RAMx2vsfwAZ_KMZKts7jxHunKD8O0Woe8kPXizlHld52wCBExtW9sLvoZDNs_dF00ImhS3S2ocdjLJpOZ9baXpXNrtUJBCbqW625eto9UvpgMKzK1tMgE7g-Q/s1600/The+Twilight+Monster+3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Go0IGmvoVraAY3_A5RAMx2vsfwAZ_KMZKts7jxHunKD8O0Woe8kPXizlHld52wCBExtW9sLvoZDNs_dF00ImhS3S2ocdjLJpOZ9baXpXNrtUJBCbqW625eto9UvpgMKzK1tMgE7g-Q/s320/The+Twilight+Monster+3.jpeg" width="245" /></a></div>
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WISE KING (as played by Dad)<br />
<i>Whoever saves my Princess will be the ruler of the kingdom!</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihiFFANcShT1imnfWi1hPfe-AXglDmoCrWikmrmFv2ezQtnoO9jwOv4ldzId5tIVeqrcSAPuIIvxvixo7Z8-fo6mPL9e6r-CdmStl-1XqjRFbURH0zDq6Q8m3FEe2U-TRtaSP-3VeQBA/s1600/The+Twilight+Monster+4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihiFFANcShT1imnfWi1hPfe-AXglDmoCrWikmrmFv2ezQtnoO9jwOv4ldzId5tIVeqrcSAPuIIvxvixo7Z8-fo6mPL9e6r-CdmStl-1XqjRFbURH0zDq6Q8m3FEe2U-TRtaSP-3VeQBA/s320/The+Twilight+Monster+4.jpeg" width="232" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think that's the king's arms folded. Unless he also cross-dresses. Also, he is a Pisces.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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THE TWILIGHT MONSTER (as played by Finn)<br />
<i>RRROOOAAAAAARRRR!!! You will never get her back! </i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUJZINpfcL2oMcMLozrLTeN4TpPnqyxQFZcEvY83GTZbW6d52U9lo_DNpr-hVsg1WgHcBUIFEc-KBm5I-tCDbS1L6U7rq1zjO96_2MUbZ207mSdni9JJdy7KYFH75JmacN4R_SWRCmRA/s1600/The+Twilight+Monster+5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUJZINpfcL2oMcMLozrLTeN4TpPnqyxQFZcEvY83GTZbW6d52U9lo_DNpr-hVsg1WgHcBUIFEc-KBm5I-tCDbS1L6U7rq1zjO96_2MUbZ207mSdni9JJdy7KYFH75JmacN4R_SWRCmRA/s320/The+Twilight+Monster+5.jpeg" width="244" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The TM is kind of Beelzebulby. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Now, it's important to note these are just storyboards the <strike>dictator</strike> director hands out to his cast. He draws four sets of these, all alike, so we can rehearse our lines. Then he goes back and illustrates a master storyboard with color (and correct spelling upon insistance of the catering crew) to refer to when he starts shooting.<br />
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I really need to get this kid into drama classes.BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-6721664108895305842012-04-25T12:25:00.000-07:002012-04-25T12:25:44.621-07:00Comic Debut<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So this was Finn's first attempt at a comic panel. Not too shabby. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1poFV-H1uJjKB3nyRFMjtp11dt_o1C3xnGJ-60tOtfSk-V9RDvbF-ed9Ozix0hNoCTZ2nEnXwQL4ntwmcmB9_Bf_AZEH9DUOmcB29ps__f15J9KbNW5HtbWZlaxhRMhI-vThsJJavag/s1600/1ComicPanel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1poFV-H1uJjKB3nyRFMjtp11dt_o1C3xnGJ-60tOtfSk-V9RDvbF-ed9Ozix0hNoCTZ2nEnXwQL4ntwmcmB9_Bf_AZEH9DUOmcB29ps__f15J9KbNW5HtbWZlaxhRMhI-vThsJJavag/s320/1ComicPanel.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-75009618213971880232012-03-13T13:13:00.005-07:002012-03-13T13:24:44.245-07:00Rocking the Vote<div>Today was primary election day, and I took the boys into our polling place while I voted so they could see democracy at work. They had some questions about what was going on and it started a discussion about voting, leaders, community, and citizenship. All good things, right?<div><br /></div><div>Me: "So, when you get old enough, you should always go vote for who you want to be the leaders of your community. It's important."</div><div><br /></div><div>5yo: "What's community mean?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: "It's means your neighborhood. Where you live and go to school, and all the other people that live around you."</div><div><br /></div><div>7yo: "Yeah, and you should vote for the President. AND the Mayor."</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: "That's right! You guys have met the Mayor before - remember him?"</div><div><br /></div><div>7yo: "Yeah..." (Suddenly huffy.) "We need to talk to him. He's not doing a good job lately."</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: "Wha? What do you mean? What makes you think that?"</div><div><br /></div><div>7yo: "That dead possum is still by the road and stinkin. We can't even walk to the park! That guy needs to go get that thing."</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: "I'll be sure to let him know."</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzv82hGqp1G5ZZhsBg-W6tLGk4cY_W4ubBj3eF4Xr7wYt4t2Ub4BEKKMfmldns0D1cA8tgFXQDHoI8EEvISDYDG5TvMjKP0RlDDRkPPhdqQ6R8ChtF6ICdmhRHBets1ws1IzTql5bEJA/s1600/TroubleWithBoys.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzv82hGqp1G5ZZhsBg-W6tLGk4cY_W4ubBj3eF4Xr7wYt4t2Ub4BEKKMfmldns0D1cA8tgFXQDHoI8EEvISDYDG5TvMjKP0RlDDRkPPhdqQ6R8ChtF6ICdmhRHBets1ws1IzTql5bEJA/s320/TroubleWithBoys.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719479124370928386" /></a><div><br />Also, I wrote a post over at <a href="http://www.rocketcitymom.com/the-trouble-with-boys/">Rocket City Mom</a> about our school struggles. I didn't get into the grisly details too much there and I won't here, but it was a nerve-wracking post to write. Luckily it was received pretty well and started a good discussion on boys and the different ways they learn. Generally, our education system needs an overhaul. </div><div><br /></div><div>I wish I could've voted on that today.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-14086714992513815112012-01-10T06:29:00.000-08:002012-01-10T06:58:12.758-08:00Where We've BeenFor the handful of folks wondering, no, we have not joined the Witness Protection Program. In between basketball, swimming, laundry, and other boy-wrangling, I'm writing over at the parenting blog <a href="http://www.rocketcitymom.com/">Rocket City Mom</a> and posting about our adventures on my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/stepheniewalker">Facebook page</a>. Posting here seems redundant but I've got to do better, guilt-free blogging or not.<div><br /></div><div><u>Quickie updates:</u></div><div>Finn is playing basketball for the third time and got his first triple-double during a game. He's learning to read and we are really enjoying his new school. His favorite Christmas gift was a scooter. He loves telling jokes, Legos, Mario Cart, and jigsaw puzzles. He's currently working on the 550 piece kind. </div><div><br /></div><div>Eli was visited by the Tooth Fairy three times this month and is a snaggle-puss. His favorite gift was a samurai castle, and he's playing basketball for the very first time this year. He really loves swimming and we're anticipating the next set of lessons. He also loves ninjas, (toy) swords of all kinds, and red-headed girls. Try as we might it has been difficult to dissuade him from the latter. </div><div><br /></div><div>Hotwheel Husband just finished school and is starting on the next degree, all after he gets home from a full day at work. I'm insanely lucky proud of him. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm doing <a href="http://www.rocketcitymom.com/ive-been-keeping-a-secret/">this</a>. And <a href="http://www.rocketcitymom.com/a-marathon-for-bookworms/">this</a>. And helping my sister with her dance studio. And volunteering at the public library, and working on the <a href="http://www.madisonstreetfestival.org/">Madison Street Festival</a>. And some other stuff that would probably bore you. </div><div><br /></div><div>Happy New Year and Roll Tide.</div><div><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/6673307449/" title="IMG_20111223_191415 by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7169/6673307449_309f276807_z.jpg" width="640" height="478" alt="IMG_20111223_191415" /></a></div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-34315075888892488122011-06-19T11:29:00.000-07:002011-06-19T12:27:01.649-07:00Diving Boards & Delayed ReactionsSo... hello! I'm so glad I aspire to the guilt-free blogging mentality, or else I would be racked with guilt over how I haven't posted in eons. Let's get caught up shall we?<br /><br />Bad news first.<div> <div>On April 27 we huddled in our bathroom, as did countless other Alabamians, while the tornadoes raged outside. We were SO LUCKY that our home only had minor cosmetic damage and no one in our family was hurt. Other friends weren't so lucky. Our neighbors are still picking up the pieces of what the storm left, and it's almost two months later. My dear friend Sarah Lena wrote about it <a href="http://theanviltree.com/3240/the-story/">here</a>, as did <a href="http://www.rocketcitymom.com/out-of-chaos-opportunity/">Rocket City Mom</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div>The boys and Hotwheel Hubs were all home when one of the tornadoes circling overhead swirled past our house, never touching down but causing damage to our house and trees. The sound was pretty scary and this previously storm-fearless girl is a lot more wary when the weather alerts happen now. The laundry list of wind damage:</div><div>- snapped our basket ball goal clean in two</div><div>- zigzag-bent gutters</div><div>- tree fell on our fence & back deck</div><div>- tons of shingle & roof damage</div><div>- picked up our garbage can and bashed it against the garage door</div><div>- 8 out 16 shutters MIA</div><div>- cracks in brick mortar</div><div>- damage to Hubs' car from loose roof shingles </div><div><br /></div><div>Some of our neighbors on our street were hit even harder, and this was just a tornado that never touched down! Others mere miles down the road weren't as lucky. </div><div><br /></div><div><iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/jeWwSzQERAA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div><div><br /></div><div>We were at home without power for seven days. Despite the fear and the sadness and the worry, the technology break was nice. We played with our neighbors, visited friends, cooked food on the grill, helped with the recovery effort, and generally reconnected. I still hear people talk about how they were a bit disappointed when the power came back on, but oh-so-happy to take a hot shower.</div><div><br /></div><div>The boys and I volunteered at the public library a few days after the storm. They were offering free wifi and their entire bank of computers for people to check on their families and make calls to FEMA and insurance companies. Most people just wanted a break, some air conditioning, some books to read. Everyone wanted to talk. It was library therapy. I was so proud of Finn - he reshelved two entire carts of children's picture books that the library had backlogged since the storms - all by himself. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/5694225306/" title="finn volunteers by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5222/5694225306_8bb9a9e106.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt="finn volunteers" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Now on to Happier News.</div><div><br /></div><div>School Play!</div><div><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/5849390811/" title="Seussical the Musical! by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2656/5849390811_be24f63b99.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt="Seussical the Musical!" /></a></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Finn was a Who in his school's production of "Seussical the Musical". A star is born!</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div>Team Sports!</div><div><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/5849948532/" title="Eli's first soccer trophy by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5189/5849948532_8ecf2492ed.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt="Eli's first soccer trophy" /></a></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;">Eli apparently has knack for all things running, kicking, and jumping. <a href="http://hotwheelhacienda.blogspot.com/2009/07/three-is-magic-number.html">Who knew? </a></span></i></div><div><br /></div><div>VBS and Lost Teeth!</div><div><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/5849450059/" title="VBS by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2543/5849450059_69d2210e2e.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt="VBS" /></a></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;">Tooth total: Finn, 5 / Eli, 1</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div>School's out and I'm home with the beastie boys 24/7. Summer has hit us with a vengeance (90+ degrees for over 20 days straight here!) and we're spending lots of time at the pool. Then this happened...</div><div><iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/TV0rkRvr9B0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">He didn't even TELL me he was going to do this. I looked up and THERE HE WAS, on the diving board!</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div>I've decided this is the "summer of sampling" and we're trying bite-sized versions of swimming, soccer, basketball, Irish step dancing (Finn), martial arts, dance camp, and theater. Then the boys can pick what they like best and we'll do that after school starts. I want them good and exhausted at the end of the day. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm also doing some freelance PR & marketing and volunteering around town when I can. Idle hands are boring. And somehow satanic so I've heard. So there's that. </div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-26477002765460610212011-04-15T09:20:00.001-07:002011-04-15T09:46:06.800-07:00Run for the Hills, Dorothy!It's Tornado Season in the South, and the usual springtime severe weather alerts are in full force. Today is no different, and it's spring break to boot, so I pulled out the big guns to entertain Eli and a playmate. <div><br /></div><div>Homemade Play-dough.</div><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/5622281700/" title="rauny day fun by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5029/5622281700_ea51205681.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt="rauny day fun" /></a><div><br /></div><div>It's the easiest stuff in the world to make, and you probably have most of it in your pantry already. Plus it's pretty safe if you have a little one that likes to snack on play-dough. </div><div><br /></div><div>2 cups flour, any kind will do</div><div>2 cups warm water</div><div>1 cup salt</div><div>1 TBS cream of tartar (for elasticity)</div><div>2 TBS vegetable oil</div><div>food coloring - I used the liquid kind you use for Easter eggs</div><div>fragrant essential oils - totally optional</div><div><br /></div><div>Mix all of the ingredients except for food coloring & oils o LOW in a pot on the stovetop. Stir gently. It will start to thicken up pretty quickly. When the dough pulls away from the sides of the pot and starts to clump up, you're on the right track. Stir until you reach the desired consistency and it isn't so sticky. </div><div><br /></div><div>Turn out the hot dough onto a clean surface or mat and let it cool for about 2 minutes, or until it's cool enough to knead. Knead the dough a few minutes until smooth, then divide it up into balls. Make a hole or indentation in the dough ball and drop in a few drops of the food coloring. Fold the dough over and start working in the dye - be careful to not touch the actual liquid dye until it works in a bit or you'll have technicolor hands! Keep adding color until you get the color you want. </div><div><br /></div><div>Store it in an airtight container. If it dries out a bit, just knead in a few drops of warm water to soften it up. If it gets soggy, just re-heat it a bit and it will firm up. </div><div><br /></div><div>You can also bake it in the oven to make hardened ornaments and sculpture figures. You can paint them & decorate them too!</div><div><br /></div><div>Or just use your new play-dough as a disguise to get into fool your friends, rob a bank, or get into the hottest night club. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFilV24izUvx6PPquD9dDbWJs5oxOhOrHTmpbX9OxxohmOGy973BK0eXQo4JSHAVMLOhbkQjQEt-5DeGIhlVfrIsPV-xlP9EbwwUiqP5oBFf-Wbuk4CKxaj09v6tdnP8AbyniyaPLgNg/s1600/playdough.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFilV24izUvx6PPquD9dDbWJs5oxOhOrHTmpbX9OxxohmOGy973BK0eXQo4JSHAVMLOhbkQjQEt-5DeGIhlVfrIsPV-xlP9EbwwUiqP5oBFf-Wbuk4CKxaj09v6tdnP8AbyniyaPLgNg/s320/playdough.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595852272611312082" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px; " /></a></div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-59896034231589870342011-04-14T19:06:00.000-07:002011-04-19T06:04:12.895-07:00This LIttle Pig Had Roast BeefLast Fall, we were headed home from vacation and had an hour layover at the airport. Finn and I were chatting about various and sundry topics, and we started discussing where food comes from. He knew milk came from cows and eggs came from chicken and bacon came from pigs - all the usual origins of some of his favorite foods. I pressed a little more, curious to see if he knew HOW milk came from cows, eggs from chicken, and bacon from (GULP) pigs. <div><br /></div><div>He was doing fine until he got around to "pigs lay bacon".</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: "What? No, pigs don't lay bacon..."</div><div><br /></div><div>Finn: "Yes they do, Mom! Bacon and ham and sausage come from pigs." </div><div><br /></div><div>Me: "Well... that's true Finn. But pigs don't lay those things. Those things are meat, and meat is made from animals." </div><div><br /></div><div>Finn: (Pausing) "But how do they make bacon from pigs then?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;">(ohnohowdoIsaythiswithouttraumatizinghim?) "Well... the farmer has to kill the pigs and cut them up to get sausage, ham, and bacon." </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;">I decided to take the 100% honesty approach. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;">Finn: "KILL them? Like with a gun? And they die?" </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;">Me: "Yes."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;">Finn: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:15.8333px;"><i>blink blink</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;"> "And they cut them up???"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;">Me: "Yes."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;">Finn: ".............. MOM." </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;">He suddenly moves away from me and goes to sit at the very end of the row. I feel terrible. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;">I decide to give him some space.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;">He didn't speak to me for 20 minutes - three hours in five year-old time. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;">Me: "So, you OK?"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;">Finn: "Yes. That's just sad. I don't want to eat pig bacon anymore. I'll just eat hamburgers." </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;">Me: "OK." </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.8333px;">I didn't have the heart to tell him. I have a feeling we'll be revisiting this topic when he gets older. </span></div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-19606485051022575032011-04-14T06:16:00.001-07:002011-04-14T06:58:34.619-07:00Things I've Learned From "Power Rangers: Samurai" and Other Recent Nuggets of Wisdom<i>Sensei: Push a door that was meant to be pulled and you will never get it open. </i>(And by "door" I mean Eli. And by "open" I mean to take a nap.)<div><div><br /></div></div><div>The <a href="http://www.nick.com/shows/power-rangers-samurai/characters/red-ranger.html">Red Ranger</a> will ALWAYS have the coolest sword.</div><div><br /></div><div>If mismatched villains who hate each other suddenly start hanging out, something's up. </div><div><br /></div><div><div><div><i>Sensei: A strong wind can kindle a fire - but it can also uproot a tree.</i></div></div><div>Interpretation application: I should probably stop cheering so loud on the soccer field. I'm trying to pump Finn up but I think I'm just distracting him. I'm too windy. </div></div><div><br /></div><div>Don't have unresolved issues. They will always get used against you, usually by an alien mutant creature with the weather power to make it rain hopelessness. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyDK50NdvZcSdOjs2kURnekZWSBDpb5Nn9NsTLb2cM5fwO2u9hXGXlwiqSreqG3wERz7zvkDadvw6kB__22arwesV1ku5Qz-3S9ZXHXwowgOjuMrNHaVjcRrobfjcPB8Vop9aptWxFFg/s1600/power-rangers-samurai-desperaino-02.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyDK50NdvZcSdOjs2kURnekZWSBDpb5Nn9NsTLb2cM5fwO2u9hXGXlwiqSreqG3wERz7zvkDadvw6kB__22arwesV1ku5Qz-3S9ZXHXwowgOjuMrNHaVjcRrobfjcPB8Vop9aptWxFFg/s320/power-rangers-samurai-desperaino-02.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595436086766734290" style="cursor: pointer; width: 233px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /><br /></div><div>When going to Disney World with a four and six year-old, don't worry about how bad it looks to push them in stroller at the parks. Just load them in, and GO. You can weave through crowds so much faster and easier. Plus if anyone gets in your way you can ram them.</div><div><br /></div><div>According to Eli, all redheads at his school are named Ava and are his girlfriend. Note to self: steer clear of redheads in 10 years.</div><div><br /></div><div>According to Finn, the principal's office isn't really that scary. Plus there's candy on his desk so it's OK if you have to go there. (HEADDESK.)</div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-6198795954381226842011-02-12T13:29:00.000-08:002011-02-12T14:00:55.061-08:00Eye of the TigerToday was Finn's last basketball game of the season and I'm a little sad. Lots of family came out to watch so there were eight of us cheering from the sidelines, and it was Finn's best game ever. He was hustling, he was guarding, he was going after the ball, and he was dribbling without fear. I think he thrived on having family there.<div> <div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KvJiRiFhmeB5HBiGsMPVkgH7dYNGqayH3m9aPXfkU2spbtZrI_73B0u7v8PMUZyhsIIX_z980VHVxGOBP24aFyd5DQtn1ZTgjEgjxOQFainEulbndRGNAgQTSkrSTKhPKAHJ9vPd5A/s1600/Finn_Basketball.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KvJiRiFhmeB5HBiGsMPVkgH7dYNGqayH3m9aPXfkU2spbtZrI_73B0u7v8PMUZyhsIIX_z980VHVxGOBP24aFyd5DQtn1ZTgjEgjxOQFainEulbndRGNAgQTSkrSTKhPKAHJ9vPd5A/s320/Finn_Basketball.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572925903574173890" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>At the beginning of the season in November, the boy couldn't even dribble and now he has a favorite team (Vanderbilt), favorite player (Jeffery Taylor lives on a poster on his wall), and he watches basketball on television with his Dad willingly. </div><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/5439865298/" title="Jeffrey Taylor Scores for Vandy by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5293/5439865298_ba75dd8199.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt="Jeffrey Taylor Scores for Vandy" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>"Jeffrey Taylor scoring a three pointer for Vandy." by Finn. See the #44?</i></span></div><div><br /></div><div>It seems like the game is just now settling into his brain and then the season had to up and end. </div><div><br /></div><div>Soccer starts up in a few weeks and Eli is finally old enough to have a go at team sports - they're both playing. This could get <u>really</u> interesting. </div></div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-61589601787068661892011-02-10T14:11:00.001-08:002011-02-11T06:48:18.461-08:00Snow Pig LipsIt's days like this I can't believe I live in the South. This is the THIRD snow with significant accumulation this winter, and school was closed yet again. (And do I spend that time being productive and ticking off things on my lengthy To-Do list? Of course not! I have Internet! And Uno! And Facebook! And video games! And movies! And Valentines!)<br /><br />The first snow on Christmas Day was Snowmageddon. We got about 4-5 inches and the boys sledded for the first time in the park.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPXVLY5VG0h31yWznOlf3BQjxjC1mkSofV6MUpusk9RwOo0ZEsh5vQofwZuKePcINUIx2Dsl9rrlQ9blO75DufXRScaDwkoIbEzg46z64S1TwOogkAIWav27dTd9nyGCKN3NYz6iVNtw/s1600/IMG_20101227_133329.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPXVLY5VG0h31yWznOlf3BQjxjC1mkSofV6MUpusk9RwOo0ZEsh5vQofwZuKePcINUIx2Dsl9rrlQ9blO75DufXRScaDwkoIbEzg46z64S1TwOogkAIWav27dTd9nyGCKN3NYz6iVNtw/s320/IMG_20101227_133329.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572438161167140050" /></a><br /><br /><br />The second snow was Snowpacolypse. Or "Snow Pig Lips" according to the boys. We were out of school for ELEVEN DAYS. We had almost a foot of snow in some places.<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/LXAZGNZEYmE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><br /><br />This third snow was melted by noon so there's no cute nickname. Or pictures. Because we are all officially SICK of snow. The boys don't even get excited anymore when it starts up again and school closes, something unheard of this far south of the Mason Dixon line. They have no idea how rare this is. <div><br /></div><div>I'm getting anxious for spring - and gardening, and farmer's markets, and tillers, and fresh cut grass. I heard a story on The Splendid Table about urban chicken coops and am contemplating having a few chickens in the yard so we can have some fresh eggs.<br /><br />But I think that's just the snow talking. </div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-6050459053542412612011-02-06T08:13:00.000-08:002011-02-06T08:15:46.963-08:00The Other WomanWe have a new babysitter, and she is beloved.<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Gk5pVxJgmdQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><br /><br />I don't know what she did to them, but I want some of that.BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-41484208236630650862010-09-07T18:18:00.000-07:002010-09-07T18:43:46.025-07:00The StrollerOver five years ago, we were shopping for an inexpensive, lightweight stroller to take on a trip to NYC. Hotwheel Hubs had a business trip there, and I had never been before. Neither had Finn, in all of his four months, but he had never been anywhere so he didn't count. <div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYMakE6rQqR_40lFEbaL-AS1sei0zbaNQP6bgDManQt6AMQecU_z4_1ejoQZPDem_aJTp3AWmGBqjbQLezkC3SlRwO0DqHq2qH3cWmjVJq5Vl986l-B66t67Sy1iiYtOZy0egVw80OqA/s1600/stroller.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYMakE6rQqR_40lFEbaL-AS1sei0zbaNQP6bgDManQt6AMQecU_z4_1ejoQZPDem_aJTp3AWmGBqjbQLezkC3SlRwO0DqHq2qH3cWmjVJq5Vl986l-B66t67Sy1iiYtOZy0egVw80OqA/s320/stroller.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514347816861443762" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>We had a great time. The stroller was perfect - not too bulky, and it had a handy shoulder strap that you could sling across your back when it was folded up. We've put some mileage on that stroller since. The zoo, the botanical gardens, the beach. </div><div><br /></div><div>Pretty soon, we're taking it somewhere else...</div><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4969734928/" title="Countdown by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4153/4969734928_17c48fd334.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt="Countdown" /></a><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Something tells me this stroller just isn't going to cut it. </div><div><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4969124463/" title="Stroller by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4128/4969124463_14a6dd6cc7.jpg" width="374" height="500" alt="Stroller" /></a></div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-20000510225394751392010-08-10T10:05:00.000-07:002010-08-10T10:31:13.953-07:00And Then There Was NoneWell, at least 2 out of 5 days of the week there will be none. Until after lunch. Then there will be one... until 2:30. Then there will be two again. Who can keep up?? <div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Eli started his new preschool today!!!</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(34, 34, 34); white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4879481590/" title="Eli's first day of preschool by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4121/4879481590_6df239f6a9.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt="Eli's first day of preschool" /></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">He celebrated with his brother and his buddy. </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:12px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4879484146/" title="Brothers & Buddies by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4100/4879484146_ba625c4857.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt="Brothers & Buddies" /></a></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">He was quite proud of his backpack.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:12px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4879491640/" title="Eli's backpack by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4120/4879491640_514029d5d0.jpg" width="374" height="500" alt="Eli's backpack" /></a></span></span></div></div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-31428891792988023642010-08-09T06:39:00.001-07:002010-08-09T06:53:16.971-07:00First Day of KindergartenIt's the first day of Kindergarten, and Finn is at least three inches taller than everyone in his class. This morning we had to make "three pancakes with bacon on the side and a scrambled egg on top", just like his favorite Little Critter book. <div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifks37GvEMnChkNXJuFZa8ylVapTu15ZFwyHl5eYlAufkGKOxmyaMS5gjgI27cUvo9xnkrbgWgJV7VCws_94rlXRA1JvwLMe0-KyY1P4bj6rysONZGsKYB5H6WPOY-gaWvEGx_FTU1rQ/s1600/2010-08-09+07.07.05.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifks37GvEMnChkNXJuFZa8ylVapTu15ZFwyHl5eYlAufkGKOxmyaMS5gjgI27cUvo9xnkrbgWgJV7VCws_94rlXRA1JvwLMe0-KyY1P4bj6rysONZGsKYB5H6WPOY-gaWvEGx_FTU1rQ/s320/2010-08-09+07.07.05.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503405137184325602" /></a><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>His buddy/hero, James, came by last week and gave Finn some special lucky charms for school. "Frank" is a Frankenstein Robot charm that Finn put on his backpack.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIPweRKfpvLku3J42-qIzJ08qOqN1z3xPIP6BbE1QTvh-8Qw6knrCnsVlPmxYZLISt0W84gUkp7uKwuSLmir39Pqnj2gWGh-q3jturPAxu44yGRXyUywC53BoLTaovCuIRRPNBCqKjjQ/s1600/2010-08-09+07.07.34.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIPweRKfpvLku3J42-qIzJ08qOqN1z3xPIP6BbE1QTvh-8Qw6knrCnsVlPmxYZLISt0W84gUkp7uKwuSLmir39Pqnj2gWGh-q3jturPAxu44yGRXyUywC53BoLTaovCuIRRPNBCqKjjQ/s320/2010-08-09+07.07.34.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503405153170683842" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIPweRKfpvLku3J42-qIzJ08qOqN1z3xPIP6BbE1QTvh-8Qw6knrCnsVlPmxYZLISt0W84gUkp7uKwuSLmir39Pqnj2gWGh-q3jturPAxu44yGRXyUywC53BoLTaovCuIRRPNBCqKjjQ/s1600/2010-08-09+07.07.34.jpg"></a>Eli starts a new preschool class two days a week. Open House is this morning. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrBbpKc0cmeq9omAMHOAuxiyo3Ov8tuBrWOgXelQ1TW8Y40hoORERtBUCj7zeJoK7CjNwctkoMqkkyjE1bCx6pXlQCho7InenCZdQ5sSglDr5LepC1noSL8YZfzdFOkKYI43UKr7Y1JQ/s1600/2010-08-09+07.11.26.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrBbpKc0cmeq9omAMHOAuxiyo3Ov8tuBrWOgXelQ1TW8Y40hoORERtBUCj7zeJoK7CjNwctkoMqkkyjE1bCx6pXlQCho7InenCZdQ5sSglDr5LepC1noSL8YZfzdFOkKYI43UKr7Y1JQ/s320/2010-08-09+07.11.26.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503405147652354562" style="cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifks37GvEMnChkNXJuFZa8ylVapTu15ZFwyHl5eYlAufkGKOxmyaMS5gjgI27cUvo9xnkrbgWgJV7VCws_94rlXRA1JvwLMe0-KyY1P4bj6rysONZGsKYB5H6WPOY-gaWvEGx_FTU1rQ/s1600/2010-08-09+07.07.05.jpg"></a>Finn had to learn his student number and teacher's name. </div><div><br /></div><div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1eTyS7leXwqIGoDCzBZTnU0ZI2uQSyRt73LmFzKHswXxg_0C3P2lny29bEkEdr2l6Z95mBasjBLmiSetHsEkTl0B9pQeaLEKmKitniFYihTupGiZ_VHAjYUxPrZt5JCBNS69SoGea1g/s1600/2010-08-09+07.08.44.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1eTyS7leXwqIGoDCzBZTnU0ZI2uQSyRt73LmFzKHswXxg_0C3P2lny29bEkEdr2l6Z95mBasjBLmiSetHsEkTl0B9pQeaLEKmKitniFYihTupGiZ_VHAjYUxPrZt5JCBNS69SoGea1g/s320/2010-08-09+07.08.44.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503405163554581826" style="cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifks37GvEMnChkNXJuFZa8ylVapTu15ZFwyHl5eYlAufkGKOxmyaMS5gjgI27cUvo9xnkrbgWgJV7VCws_94rlXRA1JvwLMe0-KyY1P4bj6rysONZGsKYB5H6WPOY-gaWvEGx_FTU1rQ/s1600/2010-08-09+07.07.05.jpg"></a>In the car line, we had just enough time to drop him off and snap a picture before Finn pulled away and headed inside. He was so excited! </div><div><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLnQ_cVoIRgGL1so8Z3kTkygXwNZrL2PEOO1soWcKi8As5c0-f0H5E5yF0bVwVynBFNe5_kUy1cu844DkxsFLvfLDP4JqfwluomsLTnX8BCbA_Z99XxRYwvZk6LYZGbibTGfxUV3VMoQ/s1600/2010-08-09+07.19.09.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLnQ_cVoIRgGL1so8Z3kTkygXwNZrL2PEOO1soWcKi8As5c0-f0H5E5yF0bVwVynBFNe5_kUy1cu844DkxsFLvfLDP4JqfwluomsLTnX8BCbA_Z99XxRYwvZk6LYZGbibTGfxUV3VMoQ/s320/2010-08-09+07.19.09.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503405170119771106" style="cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>How time does fly...</div><div><br /></div></div></div></div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-72379706720560383322010-08-02T11:26:00.000-07:002010-08-02T12:12:30.402-07:00A Few of Their Favorite Things<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">I recently conducted interviews with each beastie boy to record the things they hold most dear at the moment. Their answers were pretty straightforward, and I tried to quote them as much as possible here. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b><u>Finn's Favs:</u></b><u></u></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Color - Red</div><div><br /></div><div>Animal - Cheetah, "because they are so yellow and I can run like one."</div><div><br /></div><div>Food - Strawberries and cheese pizza</div><div><br /></div><div>Book - <i>The Wizard of Oz</i></div><div><br /></div><div>Song - Wagon Wheel by Old Crow Medicine Show. We have to sing it to him every night before he goes to sleep.</div><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YH0CnjXqCLE&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YH0CnjXqCLE&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><div><br /></div><div>Hobby - collecting robots of all shapes, sizes, and colors. </div><div><br /></div><div>Holiday - Halloween! </div><div><br /></div><div>Career Choice - "I love to cook. I want to be a Chef and open 'Finn's Diner' in Disney World." </div><div><br /></div><div>Super Hero - Link (from Zelda) </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggQRUffto0d2yEChAVuTG190nyS05aUJuT3hAJpt7sx78i5h4IuEAOxpO08JbNdlnG3spaoyoAj7-vyqjkzgDcDgDlVwqMr1a-6zSL6tzhc_YU1xQj-ScZLvgDgpTeRC4Sf0hrOQ9v-g/s1600/the-legend-of-zelda-twilight-princess-wii-version-20060509115842692_640w.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggQRUffto0d2yEChAVuTG190nyS05aUJuT3hAJpt7sx78i5h4IuEAOxpO08JbNdlnG3spaoyoAj7-vyqjkzgDcDgDlVwqMr1a-6zSL6tzhc_YU1xQj-ScZLvgDgpTeRC4Sf0hrOQ9v-g/s320/the-legend-of-zelda-twilight-princess-wii-version-20060509115842692_640w.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500890905450099698" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 266px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Movies - Edward Scissorhands, Howl's Moving Castle, Wizard of Oz, Nightmare Before Christmas</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Eli's Favs:</span></u></b><u></u></div><div><br /></div><div>Color - Blue</div><div><br /></div><div>Animal - Puppies</div><div><br /></div><div>Food - "Ovals" (deviled eggs - he will eat 7-8 of them at a time. NOT pretty.) Grapes, spaghetti, black olives, supreme pizza, mac & cheese, pad thai, tacos, anything with bacon in it, Berry Berry Kix, mangoes, apples with peanut butter, ravioli, ABC soup, "Ponyo noodles" (ramen with ham), hot dogs, pancakes, chips & salsa. </div><div>He's an eater. </div><div><br /></div><div>Book - Whatever we're reading at the moment. He's not picky when it comes to literature. </div><div><br /></div><div>Song - Anything White Stripes or ACDC. Especially this song:</div><div><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6j7huh5Egew&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6j7huh5Egew&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /></div><div>Hobby - Dressing up in various & sundry super hero garb. Toy sword collecting... he has 9 at last count. </div><div><br /></div><div>Holiday - His own birthday, of course! </div><div><br /></div><div>Career Choice - Ninja</div><div><br /></div><div>Super Hero - Batman, Spiderman, Iron Man, Wolverine, Link, Samurai Jack.</div><div><br /></div><div>TV Show - Samurai Jack. Cancelled schmancelled. </div><div><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ihidxSwTGlI&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ihidxSwTGlI&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-31630518731760109202010-06-21T17:30:00.000-07:002010-07-27T12:03:37.541-07:00The Quotable Beasties<b>Eli, holding a large, sharp stick -</b><div>"Eyes are for poking."<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Conversation in the car - </b></div><div>Me: "Now when we get to tap class, I want you guys to listen to your teacher and not horse around... Deal?" </div><div><br /></div><div>Finn: "..... Ummm, Mom, I'm going to have to stop making so many deals with you all the time. We have so many deals my head is going to 'splode."</div><div><br /></div><div>Eli (without hesitation): "Then we'll have to get you a robot head."</div><div><br /></div><div>Finn: "Oh. Well. OK!"</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Finn, to his dance teacher - </b></div><div>"My mom said if we do something hard or if I get tired I can sit down and watch."</div><div>(I so did not say that.) </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4835357214/" title="Tap Class by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4092/4835357214_928a034083.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="Tap Class" /></a></span></div><div><br /></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Finn, at least 3 times a week -</b></div><div>"This is the most awesome day <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">EVER</span>!"</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Both -</b></div><div>"When can we spend the night with Nana/Papa/Grandmother/Grandaddy/Abby/Anna Grace/Kieran-and-Connery???" </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Eli, after watching Finn's tooth fall out -</b></div><div>"I'm not going to get big teeth in my mouth. I'll just keep these little teeth. And all my blood." </div><div><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4834750671/" title="First Lost Tooth by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4128/4834750671_c0b19a6504.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt="First Lost Tooth" /></a></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Not a quote but an awfully good piece of art - </b></div><div>The boys have spent part of the summer ganging up on me during my morning computer time. They are the warriors and I am the evil monster. Specifically, Medusa with the snake hair and the gaze that turns men to stone.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4793997975/" title="Medusa by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4094/4793997975_6a9e4cb912.jpg" width="374" height="500" alt="Medusa" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>Portrait of Mom by Finn.</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>LOVELY.</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><br /></div></div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-44317001635364825162010-06-01T18:25:00.000-07:002010-06-01T19:04:11.834-07:00Winds of ChangeI did something pretty big a few weeks ago. I quit my job. <div><br /></div><div>You know, that Job That Defined Me. </div><div><br /></div><div>In a nutshell, the situation just wasn't working out anymore - not for me, not for them, not for our budget, and especially not for my family. But I'm proud of the work that I did there, and a part of me will miss it. <div><br /></div><div>So that puts me squarely in a place I never anticipated being - CDG of The Hotwheel Hacienda, SAHMomdom. And DUDE... I am tired. It's only been one little week and I fall into bed and sleep like a dead rock. This new position is about twelve times more physical than my previous one, probably because this is a sample of what we do at 8:00 AM: <div><div><div><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/i_Wm9y1J7JY&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/i_Wm9y1J7JY&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object></div></div></div></div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I'm not kidding about 8:00 AM... </span></i><br /><br /><br />I'm embracing this new job. There are gardens to tend, a house to organize, pools to swim, cookies to bake, books to read, games to play, skinned knees to smooch, and tears to dry. They are only this little once, and soon enough they will push us away, struggle from our embrace, and retreat to other people and places. <div><br /></div><div>I will stay sane thanks to my husband, my friends, and my <a href="http://www.dixiederbygirls.com/">derby sisters</a>.<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/laBnHTSsSiw&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/laBnHTSsSiw&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object></div><br /><br /></div><div>I would be lying if I said I wasn't a bit scared. I've NEVER not been employed, at least not in the past 17 years. I'm banking on staying busy so I can stay out of trouble. </div><div><br /></div><div>Bring it on. </div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-1082116778449080112010-04-25T10:49:00.000-07:002010-04-25T11:13:18.491-07:00Summer PlanningSummer is on its way and the Hotwheel Hacienda's residents are making their plans. Finn finishes preschool and we've got him registered for Kindergarden this Fall, while we took a chance and signed Eli up for the local public preschool lottery. We probably won't get in, but will know for sure soon. <div><br /></div><div>We've got a beach trip planned in the next few weeks, swimming lessons, Fantasy Playhouse summer theater classes, and soccer camp. That's in-between trips to the botanical gardens and the usual day-to-day activities, such as taking care of our veggie garden at home. I'm hoping it will be a full summer - since it's the last one before Finn becomes a real student! </div><div><br /></div><div>In other news, I survived my first <a href="http://www.dixiederbygirls.com/">roller derby</a> bout as Bettie PageTurner...</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicLhXWK__ltX66tr2nQ-jL2SFlrFTl-Lj70gw8yAiqOtAk5Xdzm_WSzRLZq3bXup-0HLpZiD3fHDf4bHZqnpax4DqnPzyhvCgbXu1Qc0mHHehNGq3uQuxR9et_OAsijuW2oOeMUq-fsg/s1600/Bettie+PageTurner.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicLhXWK__ltX66tr2nQ-jL2SFlrFTl-Lj70gw8yAiqOtAk5Xdzm_WSzRLZq3bXup-0HLpZiD3fHDf4bHZqnpax4DqnPzyhvCgbXu1Qc0mHHehNGq3uQuxR9et_OAsijuW2oOeMUq-fsg/s320/Bettie+PageTurner.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464138485356054850" style="cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicLhXWK__ltX66tr2nQ-jL2SFlrFTl-Lj70gw8yAiqOtAk5Xdzm_WSzRLZq3bXup-0HLpZiD3fHDf4bHZqnpax4DqnPzyhvCgbXu1Qc0mHHehNGq3uQuxR9et_OAsijuW2oOeMUq-fsg/s1600/Bettie+PageTurner.jpg"></a><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Love child of Melville Dewey and Bettie Page, BPT abandoned her kitten heels for roller skates... </span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><br /></i></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4lFzZNV_lBojWhBfRpOR8dMywHnuo3UoJtihP8spzvCi7Mvu-jQ6rXxTmxME1wIuxJKFgEEpNAVQYZSaHims0d8QVvJCWfF2KzuMhdWM9up1xmFp2Au7DzoUY4hNZNGcDPrOfQThbg/s1600/Blocking+BEttie.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4lFzZNV_lBojWhBfRpOR8dMywHnuo3UoJtihP8spzvCi7Mvu-jQ6rXxTmxME1wIuxJKFgEEpNAVQYZSaHims0d8QVvJCWfF2KzuMhdWM9up1xmFp2Au7DzoUY4hNZNGcDPrOfQThbg/s320/Blocking+BEttie.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464138480625432402" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px; " /></a></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">She now employs her generous backside via knocking girls down on the track!</span></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDeIi_I8lUWiRzHCy368GdbkXnFRoHJJ6Ld6gElQLn2kVKJaY8l8wvmFhEic_myipEBRWkM2CiBOX9drvP_rQeRHNivfRmjwFJECouc75UhRnp19b835tHNkXMCYkjeRS0hrvpScaPNw/s1600/24211_10150159278495357_553415356_12115070_7335261_n.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDeIi_I8lUWiRzHCy368GdbkXnFRoHJJ6Ld6gElQLn2kVKJaY8l8wvmFhEic_myipEBRWkM2CiBOX9drvP_rQeRHNivfRmjwFJECouc75UhRnp19b835tHNkXMCYkjeRS0hrvpScaPNw/s320/24211_10150159278495357_553415356_12115070_7335261_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464139331843352418" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></a></span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>The boys were excited to watch my first game.</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">What do you have going on this summer? </span></div><div><i><br /></i></div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-66622022901818684822009-12-12T12:42:00.000-08:002010-03-25T18:15:39.910-07:00Parumpapumpum... in March<div>It's been a while since the last post, and I found a half-finished one from the holidays in my edit box so I'm including it here at the end for prosperity's sake. </div><div><br /></div><div>In the meantime, here's a bulleted list of what's been happening at the HH the past 3 months:</div><div><br /></div><div><ul><li>Finn: registered for Kindergarten (!!!!), obsessed with robots and mad scientists, learning to write ABC's and counting pretty well. Loves to "invent" things. We've been on a Wizard of Oz kick there for a while, but not the movie version. Finn prefers the more grisly version where the Tin Man slings an axe around.</li></ul><div><br /></div><ul><li>Eli: slowly coming out of the Terrible Three's. Getting less moody and much more talkative. Has a toy sword collection. Loves any and all kinds of super heroes. Eli can be a bit of a brute when it comes to his brother, very much The Heavy. He went to the dentist for the first time in February and loved it because he got to choose a ninja sword out of the toy chest. </li></ul><div><br /></div><ul><li>Hotwheel Hubs: Poor guy... working hard to keep his head above water. We went to NOLA a few weeks ago for a long weekend without the Beastie Boys and it was great. Thank goodness for Grandparents! </li></ul><div><br /></div><ul><li>BookMama: Also working during the day, still trying to get scrimmage eligible at roller derby practice, doing various and sundry volunteer work in her (infinite) amount of spare time. </li></ul></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>This post started sometime in mid-December...</b></div>We've been listening to a lot Christmas music in the mornings on the way to school in hopes of Finn & Eli learning their songs for the school play next week. I threw in some other fun songs to help mix it up, and I think we've heard to this one about 3,429,016 times:<br /><br /><div><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jFTXK1QDoYY&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jFTXK1QDoYY&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object></div><br />This year, Eli is a Drummer Boy, and Finn is one of the Wise Men, specifically the one with the gold. (He is NOT the one with the "frankenstein".) The only version of Little Drummer Boy we had was the Bowie/Bing version and it always makes me weepy and nostalgic for some reason that I'm not quite sure about, except that I get weepy and nostalgic about just about everything lately. <div><br /></div><div>Finn has really nailed "Away in the Manger" and, unlike his parents, he has a pretty good singing voice. He would much rather be singing "I Don't Want a Hippoptamus for Christmas". Over and over and over.<br /><div><br /></div></div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-32365938941798492932009-11-25T19:27:00.000-08:002009-11-25T19:40:35.256-08:00An Oldie but Goodie<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 24px; font-family:Times;font-size:medium;"><div><i>(I initially posted this last November, but the house is currently filled with the smell of cornbread, and the dressing process is well underway. I hope you take some time to count your blessings this weekend - I know I am.)</i></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://hotwheelhacienda.blogspot.com/2008/11/story-of-papa-loyds-famous-cornbread.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">The Story of Papa Loyd's Famous Cornbread Dressing</span></a></div><div><br /></div>Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. I've always loved to cook and see family. We're the kind that stays, eats some more, and stays, naps a little, and stays, talk a lot, watch some football, stays a bit longer, and eventually waddle our way back to our cars with heaping plates of leftovers for the next day.<br /><div><br /></div><div>I thought I would share with you the killer cornbread dressing recipe from my Grandfather. I love to make it every year in his memory, in the very big silver "dressing bowl" he taught me to prepare it in.</div><div><br /></div><div>The year before Papa Loyd died he was still stubbornly insisting on hosting Christmas Day dinner at his house like we always did. I went over to help with the preparations and brought my video camera to try and capture the infamous dressing recipe on tape. I let him boss me around and call all the shots - watching that video makes me laugh as I cry.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-yjP4SQtJcjOlYB27SZrMMj2FhbrOTjIAWRjzXTbezF-zvsCfzOTbyAOmLU7sb46E1zQ2vKd2oKepI9BCnbIBiATg-ib3av7mGXSZBzkTqrEGvj36_GxpO_O-z8RH2c7NA82IH47hw/s1600-h/Scan1.JPG" style="color: rgb(0, 101, 215); font-weight: bold; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-yjP4SQtJcjOlYB27SZrMMj2FhbrOTjIAWRjzXTbezF-zvsCfzOTbyAOmLU7sb46E1zQ2vKd2oKepI9BCnbIBiATg-ib3av7mGXSZBzkTqrEGvj36_GxpO_O-z8RH2c7NA82IH47hw/s320/Scan1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272969513520315010" style="border-top-style: solid; border-right-style: solid; border-bottom-style: solid; border-left-style: solid; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; padding-top: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; border-top-width: 1px; border-top-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-left-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-color: rgb(192, 192, 192); border-right-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(192, 192, 192); cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 302px; " /></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;"><div><i><span style=" ;font-size:14px;">Me & Papa Loyd circa 1979</span></i><span style=" ;font-size:14px;"></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:large;"></span></span></div><blockquote style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 30px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 20px; line-height: 2em; font-size:14px;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:large;">Papa Loyd's Holiday Dressing & Giblet Gravy </span></span><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><i>Note: no shortcuts allowed. No broth instead of homemade stock. No store bought cornbread. I've tried the shortcuts and they just. don't. work. It's not the same.</i></div><div><br /></div><div>1 hen (not chicken)</div><div>2-3 onions, finely chopped</div><div>4 stalks celery, finely chopped</div><div>1 green bell pepper, finely chopped</div><div>2 large pones cornbread <span style=" ;font-size:12px;">(if you don't know what a pone is you have no business making this recipe)</span></div><div>1/4 butter</div><div>2 TBS yellow mustard</div><div>2 TBS ketchup</div><div>2 TBS Italian seasoning</div><div>1/2 to 2/3 cup fresh sage, finely chopped (reduce amount if dried)</div><div>3 slices bread, torn up into small pieces</div><div>1 (8 oz.) can oysters, drained & chopped</div><div>3 TBS jarred pimento, finely chopped</div><div>salt & pepper to taste</div><div><br /></div><div>The day before: cook cornbread & cool completely. Crumble both pones.</div><div>Day of Thanksgiving:</div><div>Remove giblets from hen and set aside.</div><div><br /></div><div>Rinse hen and place in stockpot & cover with water, about 8 cups. Simmer covered until done, <u>reserving broth</u>. De-bone hen & reserve meat.</div><div><br /></div><div>Preheat oven 350 degrees</div><div><br /></div><div>In large saucepan melt butter & add onion, celery, and bell pepper. Add all the broth from hen, cover and simmer 10 minutes.</div><div><br /></div><div>In BIG ("dressing") bowl, combine crumbled cornbread, torn bread pieces, & the broth mix until it reaches spaghetti sauce consistency. If mix is too soupy, add more bread pieces.</div><div><br /></div><div>Add all the remaining ingredients & mix well.</div><div><br /></div><div>Pour mixture into a large roasting pan. Bake 1 hour until golden.</div><div><br /></div><div>Serve hot with giblet gravy & hen meat on the side.</div><div><br /></div><div>GIBLET GRAVY:</div><div>Finely chop hen giblets.</div><div>Simmer 3 cups chicken broth on stovetop. Add flour a little at a time, stirring constantly until a smooth, thin rue is formed. Add chopped giblets, blend well, and simmer.</div><div>Salt, pepper, and otherwise season to taste, can add one or two sliced boiled eggs to gravy if you want to be extra-Southern.</div><div>Yields: enough for a crowd of at least 10-15.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 24px;font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 28px;font-size:14px;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 24px; font-family:Times;font-size:medium;"><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtqVryskOBf0PSZVWU89Mq4KvgL9zTMk6LHmut8NXcPhkjrPrUUuSqfTA2pugbjtYyD6awC_eZPIxuCBl_6GCPlY7jEodjvaBo-mw9JOrHZyGG5ldqG11SdGPgiURtswayWdxCh137A/s1600-h/IMG_3739.JPG" style="color: rgb(0, 101, 215); font-weight: bold; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtqVryskOBf0PSZVWU89Mq4KvgL9zTMk6LHmut8NXcPhkjrPrUUuSqfTA2pugbjtYyD6awC_eZPIxuCBl_6GCPlY7jEodjvaBo-mw9JOrHZyGG5ldqG11SdGPgiURtswayWdxCh137A/s320/IMG_3739.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272604751884916754" style="border-top-style: solid; border-right-style: solid; border-bottom-style: solid; border-left-style: solid; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; padding-top: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; border-top-width: 1px; border-top-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-left-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-color: rgb(192, 192, 192); border-right-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(192, 192, 192); cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div><i>Eliot Loyd is Papa Loyd's namesake.<br />I see his spirit in that boy every day.</i></div><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: normal; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWNZXrBjSz3UzynoA6KzxTkJSj4gV-NTqu8U-1_mVZ5v0gemVDWI7ZlMssyKxJbBFoxbmWvzMEW7RosRn5qUNkYoVtcVFVO8R0QovvW9qYK149Om_42Na83QZhU0T0nx9d8_phiEd65Q/s1600/DSCN0725.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWNZXrBjSz3UzynoA6KzxTkJSj4gV-NTqu8U-1_mVZ5v0gemVDWI7ZlMssyKxJbBFoxbmWvzMEW7RosRn5qUNkYoVtcVFVO8R0QovvW9qYK149Om_42Na83QZhU0T0nx9d8_phiEd65Q/s320/DSCN0725.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408252011064207346" style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></span><br /><br /></span></div></blockquote></span></div></span>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-75664263231634756812009-11-22T10:09:00.000-08:002009-11-22T10:11:20.026-08:00Hot Wheel Hacienda indeed...<div>... here's a bit about my latest venture. </div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/laBnHTSsSiw&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/laBnHTSsSiw&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-42438555822528369942009-11-17T16:36:00.000-08:002009-11-17T18:03:37.259-08:00I know, I know. I haven't posted since September, and now I'm like that boy that dumped you in middle school who was slobbering all over you one minute and snubbing you the next (Jerk.) <div>I suck. <div><br /></div><div>But work was killing me and I had the Huge Event and Finn was having a rough time at school and we were worried and I would just come home and collapse in a heap from exhaustion and frustration. And the dog ate my homework. And I had car trouble. Satisfied? </div><div><br /></div><div>Somewhere in between all that we all went to the beach with my parents, Hotwheel Hubs went back to school, I started up with the <a href="http://www.dixiederbygirls.com/">local roller derby team</a>, Finn played a whole soccer season, we celebrated our 10th anniversary in NYC, I got swine flu, Finn evened out at school, and Halloween happened:</div><div><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4113828904/" title="Samurai Jack & FinnBot by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2619/4113828904_55856916aa.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="Samurai Jack & FinnBot" /></a><br /></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Eli was Samurai Jack and Finn was a Robot. Best. Halloween. EVAH!</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div>That should catch you up with me, but I've missed YOU! I hope to catch up visiting your worlds and trying to catch up. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>... AND I wanted to show an email my Dad just sent me... I couldn't believe it and have never been more thankful that I don't have a bayou running through my backyard.</div><br /><br /><b></b></div><blockquote><div><b>From</b>: Uncle Mike<br /><b>Sent:</b> Monday, November 16, 2009 7:31 AM<br /><b>To:</b> The Fam<br /><b>Subject:</b> Hog Gator<o:p></o:p></div><br />I thought you all would like to see the size of this gator. I would not want to be in any soccer field with a gator like this!<br />1000lb + GATOR Shot in Houma, La. The larger female got away but was seen crossing Field 4...</blockquote><blockquote><br /></blockquote><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4113085605/" title="Gator1 by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2667/4113085605_ab525ec85d.jpg" width="447" height="491" alt="Gator1" /></a><br />AAAHHHHHHHHH!<br /><div><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4113853796/" title="Gator2 by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2583/4113853796_50b30eefa5.jpg" width="446" height="485" alt="Gator2" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4113853900/" title="Gator3 by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2590/4113853900_faa3e9be8d.jpg" width="500" height="297" alt="Gator3" /></a><br /><br /></div><div><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4113854004/" title="Gator4 by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2776/4113854004_776aface1f.jpg" width="500" height="371" alt="Gator4" /></a></div><div><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4113854004/" title="Gator4 by BookMamma, on Flickr"></a> You know those Cajuns... putting him in the cooler to make some awesome gator soup. Many, many bowls.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4113086113/" title="Gator5 by BookMamma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2694/4113086113_b698e03cb2.jpg" width="500" height="390" alt="Gator5" /></a></div><div><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/hotwheelhacienda/4113086113/" title="Gator5 by BookMamma, on Flickr"></a> Check out that pinky finger and those nails!<br /><br /></div><div><br />The craziest part is THE FEMALE GOT AWAY. Eeeek!!</div></div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-57732564014572540392009-09-01T19:33:00.000-07:002009-09-01T19:57:28.156-07:00Send the GypsiesDear Boys,<div><br /><div>If you are reading this, then I assume we've all survived - at least until you've learned to read. Consider this a retrospective entry that details the growth your parents have experienced while raising you in your third and fourth years. </div><div><br /><b>Retrospective #1</b></div><div>You are driving your Dad and I bleepity-bleep CRAZY. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Introspective #1</b></div><div><b></b>What's with the brotherly fighting <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">all the time</span>? And when I say all the time, I mean every 15-30 minutes, around the clock, except for nine hours you are sleeping? </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Introspective #2</b><br />How can it be that daycare has called us TWICE in less than a week to pick Finn up for kicking and/or hitting? Is an expelled preschooler in our near future? </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Retrospective #2</b></div><div>Never again will I think "My kid won't be like that" or "That's a questionable parenting decision". It's clear now that no parent knows what they're doing. If they say they do, they're lying. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Introspective #3</b></div><div>Where's the justice? Even if we do ALL the right things - read to you, cuddle you, feed you good & healthy food, give you occasional tough love, allow occasional candy (but not too much candy), make sure you get enough sleep, be compassionate (but not too compassionate), be consistent (but not overly so), yaddayaddayadda... you will STILL go through rough patches. </div><div><br /></div><div>Rough enough to cause our entire days/weeks/(gulp)months to come crashing to a screetching halt with worry over if we're doing the right thing to get you through it. Or if we're just pushing you farther down the wrong track. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Somebody needs to invent a Parenting Magic 8 Ball. NOW please. </div><div>Along with a gift certificate to Great Spirits. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1703584635995450828.post-9994400578808082012009-07-27T19:29:00.000-07:002009-07-27T20:11:12.187-07:00Every Little Thing... Is Gonna Be AlrightJimmy Buffett and Bob Marley should write ME a check... almost every night they are each invoked during our bedtime ritual. <div><br /></div><div>Finn is a Buffett guy; quintessential beach baby and pirate connoisseur. We started incorporating the song when he moved to a "big boy bed" because Eli needed the crib. We chose it because Caleb knew all the words. </div><div><div><br /></div><div>Number of times we have sung "A Pirate Looks at 40":</div><div><ul><li>5 times a week on average<br /></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">52 weeks a year = 260</span><br /></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">for 3 years = 780 times! </span></li></ul></div><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XPYNL5ioo8E&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XPYNL5ioo8E&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Eli is a little more chill and a lot less melancholy. He's only recently began asking for a song at night, but his taste is good - Bob Marley is his DOC. How indicative of his future character is this? Only time will tell, but hubs and I are more than a little worried. We've referred to Eli's Matthew-McConaughey-esque demeanor before... </div><div><br /></div><div>I remember being very pregnant in the heat of summertime and stressed to the max about work or some other odd hormonal thing. Driving in to the office that morning I stuffed this CD into my car's dashboard and cranked it up. The impact was almost instantaneous - I could literally feel the tension drain away...</div><div><br /></div><div>How could you NOT? </div><br /><embed wmode="transparent" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/60osLcz4zmtYU7oZr" allowscriptaccess="never" height="415" width="480"></embed> <div style="font-size:0.9em;"><br /></div><div style="font-size:0.9em;"><br /></div><div style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Here's to stress-free summers and steel drums. </span></div><div style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I hope you have both. </span></span></div>BookMammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17911904906865609065noreply@blogger.com3