The Magic Box

Marc is making us give up television. To be fair, when we decided to cancel Dish I was on board with the plan. Our family watches vast and massive amounts of stupid television and none of us really have the self control to turn it off and do other things.

Marc and I discussed how we would like to use our time in the evenings to plan, play with our kids, visit with each other, and do other great and good works. We decided that our main problem is that in spite of our best intentions, by eight o'clock we are crazy tired and we will always pick door number one with lay on the couch and watch DVR-ed shows behind it.

So we're cutting off the juice.

And like I said, I was in favor of this right up until today when the screen went blank. And now I am in a mild state of anxiety and unease. Where are my shows? My comfy, funny, lovely shows?

I called Marc at work to tell him that the TV really goes bye-bye when you cancel and he was all, "good." But wait until he gets home. I predict he is not going to like this quiet one little bit.

So we'll see how it goes. I wonder if we will be able to stay all granola virtuous or if we will cave in. Besides gaining more productive time, not having to listen to the Disney Channel,and purging our brains of all that prime time junk, the main benefit I see to dumping the tube is that I will get to brag about how myfamily never watches TV and act slightly superior.

I'm not at all sure it will be worth it.

What about you? PLEASE leave a comment and tell me if you've had any success with limiting TV for you and your kids.

Return to the Gift of Crazy Mom

First of all, blogger is being very weird this morning.

post edit* I started writing this like a month ago when I had just finished OM, but then my computer and blogger conspired against me so the post languished in my draft section until just now when I found it and decided to try again...because Jonathan deserves a post.

Second, LOOK at my little OMers at the regional tournament last Saturday! Jonathan's team of 10 and 11 year old boys took on the problem "Return to the Gift of Flight."

They had to make six different aircraft that completed six different flight plans like "touch down and take off" and "drop something onto a target," and they had to used at least four different propulsion systems. Complicated? Yes.

Every time I coach OM there's a moment (a very long moment) when I am certain my team will definitely not be ready for the competition...a moment when all seven boys are bouncing off my walls, making disgusting noises, and yelling about ninjas and grenades, and I KNOW they will never actually solve the long term problem.

Because they are crazy. And I wish I had never said I would coach. It is a sad, sad moment.But then every year an OM miracle happens and they, using massive amounts of duct tape, manage to get it together. This year we had helium dirigible that was powered by a blowdryer too!

Generally I am not a competitive person, but my boys came in third place out of 10 teams. If they had got second they would have moved onto the state competition. They missed second place by three lousy points and I am convinced they would have got those points except one boy's paper costume blew away while he was walking through the parking lot and he couldn't retrieve all of it. I know I shouldn't be, but I am bugged. The most ridiculous part of that sentence is the fact that actually going to states would be my own personal hell. But making sense was never really my strong suit.

Where I Can't get off my Soap Box, Even Though I Want to

Last Saturday Maddie went to her Junior Prom. Really. Yes I am having a hard time digesting that my baby girl is old enough for a prom...with a date...looking like this:

Truly she was as beautiful as can be and my heart is full of all kinds of monumentally sappy stuff, but lets leave that behind and discuss how tasteful her dress and her friend Serene's dress are compared to all of the other 16 year old girls'.

Let us also ponder what is on the mind of these lovely young ladies mothers and fathers. As in, WHAT are they thinking? I know I'm sounding like a massive prude here, and these dresses are certainly more tasteful than many we saw while we were shopping, but really these girls aren't 25 years old at a club, they are 16 year old girls going to a high school dance! I hurts my heart to see them all dressed up like their bodies are a commodity.

On a happier note (one that won't make Maddie have to die), Maddie and her friend Kirk had a great time.

And Marc and I had a bittersweet moment, taking pictures, sending her off, and then collapsing on the couch to wait for her text saying that the dance was fun and she was safe at her friend's house for a sleepover. Where does the time go?

It's All Complaining

I am sad because part of not paying an even bigger chunk of taxes was making a contribution to our 401K thingie. And for some reason, like we are poor planners, I wasn't planning on it. But then Marc said we had to do it anyway even if I had all kinds of vacation fantasies for that money.

But now it's gone until we are sixty-gasp-five.

I try to comfort myself by saying that it has gone to a better place where it can grow and get better. It is safe from accidental spending. Marc says I talk like it has gone to the Celestial Kingdom.

I am also sad because we had the stomach flu for the last week. Today even my dog is throwing up. Grossness! I keep cleaning and it keeps coming. But at least I can make him stay outside and barf...which unfortunately doesn't work with my kids seeing as how they can open the door and all.

As long as I'm discussing things that bug let's just go for it.

I am tired of my car lights burning out.

I'm sick of people saying diet coke dehydrates you (ICE people!).

There are a ton of restaurants right here in my own home town of Walnut Creek that I haven't been to and I know I won't get to for a long time because of budget constrictions and I tell you what, it REALLY chaps my hide!

I wish my car had a rear horn so I could honk back at people who honk at me.

And finally, what is wrong with Modern Family that they can't get a new episode up every week? Laziness, that's what I call it!

And one more thing, I want a tassel for my hutch but I don't want to make it OR buy it. It should just appear.

My friend Shawni always writes positive and uplifting things on her blog. If I have bummed you out in anyway, you should find her in my sidebar and go over there. Go.

It's so annoying to be responsible for other people's feelings. Meh.

Money Matters

Paige and I spent the morning on the phone discussing how our children are not really responsible with money. We decided that actions must be taken. We considered many many possible actions but since we are both basically lazy moms we didn't really settle on an exact plan.

Does anyone have any ideas? For teenagers?

Chalkboard Paint Project

Definitely I should be doing something besides blogging. I could set up quicken, fold the baskets of laundry in my room, or mop (I REALLY ought to mop). I could wash the dog or clean up the breakfast room. My room needs to be dusted too. Probably you have stuff to do besides read blogs, so I guess that makes us even. I suggest we both concentrate on ignoring unpleasant tasks and enjoy our computer time!

Anyway, a few weeks ago I painted the door to my kitchen with chalkboard paint. Lots of people in blogland have been using chalkboard paint in their homes, but I think they all did it like a year ago. Not only am I a copy cat, I'm a slow copy cat. Oh well, I like it a lot. The benefit of being slow is that I could ignore all of the recipes for homemade chalk paint and go strait to buying it at ACE, where they are also about a year behind everyone in blogland.

I used to write reminders to myself on my hand; it worked well for me because I am infinitely good at losing little bits of paper and forgetting to look at my calendar. Then I got to an age where it feels embarrassing to have things scribbled on my hand, a lovely French manicure would be so much more appropriate. But the kitchen door/chalk board works a lot like writing on my hand. I see the same important message several times a day, and it stays there until I wash it off.

Since I painted both sides I have room to put the week's menu and the small's chore charts on it too. Jonathan really likes seeing what I plan (I use the term loosely) to make for dinner during the week. He was inspired to hug the door when he saw "flank steak" up there.

A Load of Books

I spent a bunch of time today trying to make my family room bookshelves look good. It doesn't seem like it should be that hard, but all my attractive tasteful looking books are in the living room built ins and the books that are left to make their way in the family room are the sad, tatty paper backs that I can't stand to part with. It's hard to make them look good even with candles and creative color coordinated stacking. I love The Man Who Ate the 747, obviously I can't part with it, even if the cover does look like this:

I ended up editing out a TON of children's picture books that Ellie doesn't look at any more. This was bittersweet and I comforted myself by keeping two shelves full of baby books that I'm saying are for my grandbabies. Weird. But viola!