Caution!

"For Christmas, I want a sword.  A nerf sword. They have these two-handed swords at Target," The Boy told me and anyone who would listen.

Later I asked Jeremy, "So, uh, when do boys outgrow things like nerf swords."
"Oh, we never outgrow swords," he told me. "But we do outgrow nerf. You know, like my machete."  Oh yes, the machete he had when he was fourteen.  Um, I think I'll just be grateful Josh is still in the Nerf stage of sword collecting.

Christmas morning came, and much to his delight, he opened his most coveted gift:


The reaction was more than we could have hoped for, until he noticed the text written on the sword and started to read to us, out loud,"Caution: do not poke or jab at people or animals. Use away from breakable objects," he paused. "Really? It's a sword. A SWORD PEOPLE! What else are you gonna do with a sword?"

Last night, the sword in question just happened to be in the car. We were giving Julia, a ninth grader from a near-by school district, a ride home from a youth event. She was sitting in the third seat when Joshua handed back to her his Christmas present. "Now read the warning," he commanded.  Julia started laughing.  "It's a SWORD! What else are you gonna do with a sword? Oh I know, I'm gonna pet Joshua with the sword. Here Joshua. Pet Josh with the sword. Nice Joshua," she crooned, as she reached around Josh's seat to pat him on the head with the sword.

"Hmm. I dunno," Josh said, "Seems an awful lot like 'poking or jabbing at a person' to me." He made quote marks with his fingers.
"No this is poking," she said, jabbing him in the arm.
"True. True." Josh said.
"I mean, what fun is a sword if you can't jab at people?" Julia asked, incredulously.
"My point, exactly." He sighed.

Here's your sign.

Santa's been busy in this house...

And if you weren't really sure what he looks like...it turns out he's a she, and she's only about four feet tall.

Hannah has been busily making gifts. I have no idea when or where she's secretly crafting, but every day she shows up with another little something to stick under the tree.  Yesterday, she held something that looked like trash in her hand, "It's a present," she told me.  With Hannah, the jokester, I wasn't too sure if she was serious or not.
"Ooo-kaaaaaay," I said cautiously, and took the wad of toilet paper from her hands. I felt something solid inside of the TP and looked at Hannah questioningly.
"I don't have wrapping paper," she explained, "So I used toilet paper."
Ahhh. "Ok, put it under the tree."  I, then, announced to the whole family that the wad under the tree was indeed a present and nobody, but NOBODY, should throw it away.  The last thing I need Christmas morning is tears.

This morning Hannah showed up with last nights Chinese food carton in her hands.  "It's a present for Ruth," she announced.  I took a deep breath, and decided I had to look in this one.  A) I wasn't sure if she managed to get all of the food out of the carton and B) the way Ruth has been treating her lately, I wanted to be sure it really was a present, and not pay-backs.  Tentatively, I opened the top of the carton and peered inside.  No rice, no sweet and sour chicken, that was a good start!  At the bottom was a bunch of beads, obviously strung. Whether it is a necklace or a bracelet only time will tell, but I let out the pent up breath in a sigh of relief.   "Put it under the tree," I told her.

I can't fault the child's creativity when it comes to wrapping gifts. It should be interesting to see what she comes up with over the next few days.

If she can't get a date, it's not my fault.

Like any mother, I've been working on manners. My biggest impetus is not the children, necessarily. Oh no. It's Jeremy. He doesn't understand the need for good manners when it comes to body functions operating normally causing loud noises to occur in public venues. Because he thinks it's hilarious, he never corrects the children.
"You can't do that," I told him once.
"What?" he said, laughing.
"That. You cannot laugh when they pass gas or burp. They need to say 'excuse me.' It's your job to remind them to excuse themselves, too, you know. When it's just me correcting them, they never learn." For years, I've been working on him but to no avail.

Last night, we were having dinner, when we heard a delicate "put put put put put put put" noise. Jeremy, bless him, did try. Holding back the laughter that wanted to come out, he said, "Hannah Noel what do you say?"
Hannah looked at her father's strained expression, and knowing he was on the edge said, "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

Jeremy howled, laughing so hard, his eyes started to water. "I tried," he said shaking his head back and forth. "I really really tried."

Who needs Satellite TV when you have a ..

For years we didn't even have any kind of television. Oh sure, we owned a set, and a VCR, which gave way to a DVD player, so we could watch movies, but we just couldn't afford TV. Plus, we couldn't get any kind of reception on an antennae where we live.  So we did without.  About three years ago I begged and pleaded with Jeremy to let me have TV.

"I neeeeeeeeeeed real television," I said.
"I'm tired of watching the same movies," I said.
"I work better with the TV on," I said.
"Besides we can watch the Food Network," I said.

It was probably the last thing that got his attention.  We watch A LOT of Food Network programs.

I contend I'm a happier, more productive, not to mention, more sane person with real television.  But apparently, my family is more easily entertained than I am.  Apparently, there was never a need to upgrade from DVD's to actual commercial laden programming.

We are now the proud parents of a, gasp, teenager, as of yesterday evening, 6:55pm to be exact.  Having his birthday in the middle of the week, we decided to throw him a party on Saturday. When he was smaller, Joshua never quite understood why he couldn't have the world over to our house midweek to celebrate the momentous occasion of his birth. He felt he had to "fight for the right to paaaaaaaaarty" any time December 9th hit the weekly schedule. Monday? No problem. Thursday, No problem.  Saturday, no problem.  Explaining the logistics has been a complicated and lengthy ordeal in years past, so we've learned to have a very small cake and a very small $15 or under gift for him on THE DAY and reserve the main gift for the family party.  Now that he's thirteen, I'm pretty certain he 'gets' the why we push off his party until the closest weekend. I'm also pretty certain that he now 'milks' the tradition of two cakes, two presents for all it's worth.  Frankly, I don't mind eating all that birthday cake. It's always been a small sacrifice for household peace.

So, Tuesday evening, Jeremy called me from Wal-mart looking for a 'small' gift.  "How 'bout a lava lamp?" He asked me.
"I think he'd like that."
I was wrong. He LOVED it.   I got the minute by minute "Lava Lamp Report" last night.  After an hour, I wanted to scream.
"It's still not warmed up yet."
"Oh wait, I think i see something. Nope. I was wrong."
"Maybe it's upside down. Do you think the wax is upside down?"
"What's this coil there? I bet that heats up and then melts the wax."
"It's still not bubbling yet. When will it do that?'
"Oh, I see a lump? See that lump? It's starting to melt"

Since it was the first lava lamp usage, it took almost two hours to really warm up. Joshua had plugged the lamp on the floor in the living room, and was attempting to do his homework. But the distraction proved too great, so Jeremy and I sent him up to his room.  That only made matters worse, because his sisters felt obliged to give the "Lava Lamp Report" at the top of their lungs, from the bottom of the steps.

"Josh! JOSH! IT'S MAKING A MOUND!"
"JOSH! JOSH! THE MOUND LOOKS LIKE A FINGER! ACTUALLY, IT LOOKS LIKE IT'S GIVING THE FINGER!"
"JOSH! JOSH! OOOH OOH! THE FIRST BUBBLE PULLED AWAY FROM THE FINGER!"

Running up and down the stairs with each new "Lava Lamp Report," Joshua came to check out the news himself.  It took him approximately two hours to do ten math problems, thanks to the Lava Lamp.  Eventually, the lamp got on a roll, and Jeremy joined in the "Lava Lamp Report." Laying on his belly in front of the lava lamp, he called to Joshua, "JOSH! COM'MERE!"  The girls shrieked "OOH! Is it working?! Is it working?!" And they proceeded to lay on their bellies with him.  Flopping down on his belly, Joshua joined the trio.




I've spent way too much money in the last three years on television.

She's such a strange child..

Sitting at the table, a lunch of fried chicken sitting in front of her, she paused mid-bite, picked up a post-it note from the table and put it dead center on her chest, and continued to eat.  Jeremy and Joshua had been playing 3D tic-tac-toe on the post-it pad, and the crosses on the yellow sheet looked even more out of place amongst the 101 Dalmatians cavorting all over the turtle neck she wore.  Singing to herself while she ate, Hannah was a picture of pure contentment, her imaginary world more than enough to keep her happy.

Meanwhile, Ruthie, opening the cabinet doors, made a disappointing discovery. "OH NOOOO!" She wailed. 'The syrup spilled EVERYWHERE!"  During the clean-up, Jeremy and Ruth discovered some left over Hershey's miniatures that had escaped the bag a few days ago.  He noticed Hannah had finished lunch, and said, "Hey Hannah, wanna Krackle?"
"Yeaaaaaaaaaaah," Hannah said

Jeremy unwrapped the candy bar so Hannah couldn't read the wrapper.  She took a bite and started to MMMmm, when suddenly her expression turned into one of disgust.  Her father started howling with laughter.
"This isn't a Krackle!" she said, indignant. "This is that peanut one...Mr..."
"Bad Bar!" Jeremy finished. No one in this house likes the Mr. Goodbars, except for me.  Hannah started making gagging noises and rushed for the trashcan.
"I guess that makes us even for 1-2-3 Nipples!"
"What's 1-2-3 Nipples?" I was afraid to ask, but curiosity overcame trepidation.
"The other week, Hannah kept trying to grab at my nipples. And I told her to knock it off. So she said," Jeremy switched his voice to a higher pitch in imitation, " 'Can I count your chest hairs then?' So I told her Ok."  (I should probably mention, that my husband is about as hairless as a guy can get.  You really can count his chest hairs with ease). Jeremy continued as my eyes grew wider, "So, she started to count...1-2-3 and then grabbed and yelled "NIPPLES!" " He shuddered, as we all started laughing really hard.

Our laughter quickly became out of proportion to the story.  Josh, Ruth, Hannah, Jeremy and I were wiping tears out of our eyes, and gasping for breath when Hannah piped up at the end, "Well," she paused for dramatic impact. "We all just had a great chuckle there. Didn't we?"

That set off another peal of laughter from all of us, except Hannah who stood there bewildered for once, because normally she's very deliberate with her humor.

"Chuckle?" Joshua said shaking his head as he walked into the other room talking to himself "Who says chuckle?"

"On December first, I get a goat!"

He told me enthusiastically.  For weeks I've been hearing, "On December first..." this and "On December first..." that.  December first was going to be heralded as a day to end all days in our house.  Why? Well, isn't it obvious? Lord of the Rings Online was issuing it's upgrade.

"On December first, they're adding five more levels."
"On December first..."
"On December first..."
"On December first..."

I began to tune him out.  Don't get me wrong. I love my geeks to the fullest extent possible, but after nearly fifteen years of living w/ the eldest geek and surviving another thirteen with the younger, I've learned to tune the two of them out.  Or ban the activity in my presence.  That was an absolute necessity when they obsessed over Naruto together...the japanese version with the high awful female squeaky whiny voices. I didn't have to understand Japanese to know they were annoying. According to the guys, "the dubbed "American" version was just no good".

So now that my interest was piqued, I asked, "A goat?"
"Yeah. A goat. It can go into the Mines of Moria. I can't take a horse there, but I can ride a goat."

Ok then. So glad I asked. At least, he's not bringing home a real goat or something goat related. I never know with that one.

Thank goodness for small mercies.