Phew. Monday Morning crapfest, complete.

Traveling with a hockey team is NOT for the faint of heart. A IV drip of alcohol is actually the remedy most commonly suggested by other, more experienced, parents. Friday we left at the crack of dawn. Which seemed to come even earlier because all night I was woken up by an eight year old boy running downstairs to go to the bathroom/get a drink of water/double check the time (only 12:30/1:15/3:30 am????)

The team was beaten handily by a elite traveling team. ooof. It was a blow but more interesting was the fact that after the game some of our players were chatting up their players and we found out that *surprise* their goalie was 11 years old. um, nice. Bet it felt good to beat a team with 5-8 year olds on it. And then we had breakfast at a local diner. Chet's. Where Nancy, the owner and cook, couldn't have been a day under 75. Twenty five of us had breakfast there in under an hour. Why does a simple trip to Friendly's with a family of four take so much longer?



But the hotel...it had a pool...and what would the kids want with thinking about a hockey tournament when they could swim. and swim. and swim. The pool, it never closes and after dinner at a pizza place

where we horrified the locals it was time to swim some more. And some more. The next morning, another loss. Funny that this huge sports complex would have some of the crappiest ice the kids have skated on all year.

Anyway, the idea of spending another day breathing in that humid chlorinated air had me hiding up in the room reading vanity fair and cranking the ipod. In order to preserve my sanity we headed up to Nashoba for some snow tubing. Perfect. Although watching my son's tube fall off the lift/puller and watching him start to slide back down the hill, that was a bit of a heart stopper.

Another dinner out, reservations for 40 please?. Where the boy actually ate french fries and declared it the best dinner out EVAH. And then...you guessed it
...swimming. A few hours of that and I was all pooled out. I took the kids up, put them in bed and watched Walk the Line. I love me some Joaquin.

The next morning the kids are running on fumes. They play the game of their lives. And win. A parent from another team asked me how we did...I tell him our new training philosophy of chlorine, sleep depravation and sugar has worked wonders.

five crappy ways to start your week

1. Realizing at bedtime that you left your favorite pillow and pillowcase at the hotel.

2. Getting a notice today at daycare that the girlie's school will be closing on April 1st and that we can bring her to their other center, five miles and one school district away. Child care plans for the fall *poof* ~ gone.

3. Remembering that *ack* I'm hosting my book club this Friday. As in four days. Must try to fit actual reading time into this week's schedule.

4. Downloading all of the hockey tournament photos into my computer this morning only to be unable to find the file where I thought they were one minute later.

Okay, so it's only four. Or maybe five because it was, like five degrees this morning. And that's stinky too.

But on the bright side the hockey tournament was a blast. At least for the boy. And I'll be back later to post about it.

Ack. Show and Tell. I almost forgot.

Bacon Wrapped Meatloaves with Sour cream Smashed Potatoes and Steamed Peas. And gravy. Homemade gravy.

A recipe from the either love her or hate her...Rachel Ray. Damn her and her thirty minute meals. I don't want to like her. But I do. So uncool of me but I cannot resist her thirty minute meal charms.




I'm gone for the weekend. Big time hockey tournament. woo-hoo. There are professionally made signs and mohawks. And there's sure to be pictures.

Have a great weekend y'all.

Laundry Tips for Your Enjoyment

Make sure your son does not have a clump of used black hockey tape in his pant pocket.

Also, don't leave a black ball point pen in your own sweatshirt pocket.


Both have happened this past week - and surprise - of the fifteen or so items that were covered with A.) blackish nasty substance or B.) black ballpoint ink - 13 of them were mine. Hurray!

There's been alotta hockey this weekend. Something like five games & practices in three days. We've got a repreive before this weekend's tournament ... and we all need it.

I would like to say I've been watching the Olympics - but I only catch fifteen minutes here or there. We've watched a few of the hockey games though and some speed skating and that skeleton. I used to love the Olympics, maybe it's just a phase but I'm not feeling it this year.

I had big plans yesterday afternoon - which were waylaid by some unexpected guests. It was fine, gave me time to think over my decision a little more. Today I blocked it out of my mind - I worked for a few hours, got some things done. But after work, I did it. I ran upstairs and sat down...clicked a few times, printed a sheet or two, hopped in the car and sped away. If you want to call 13 mph on my dirt road speeding away.

Anyhow. I pull into the parking lot, surprised at myself. What did I just do?? Even though I've been mulling it over for a few months now and pretty much knew what I wanted it still came as as surprise that I just went out and bought it. My favorite-ist new toy. My girl, she is a girl, somehow I just know.







Which is why I bought her a pink jacket.



















I'm not sure what I'll call her yet. I'm thinking on it.

But I think I'm in geeked out love.

Survivor, Spring Training and 216 hours of FUN!

I had forgotten that February vacation began this afternoon at 3:20 p.m. Maybe denial isn't the exact same thing as forgetting but either way... I was surprised when my son came home skipping and singing a diddy about his 216 hours of vacation. ( Nine times twelve is one hundred and eight times two is two hundred sixteeeeeen ~ there's no real tune just sing along however you'd like)

Survivor last night...

I saw this picture over in Petroville and thought...PERFECT!

I thought Bruce was kind of cool until the brag-o-rama started, with the t-shirt water filtration "oh, this is the best one yet" stuff. And then slam, back you go to Exile Island. Hang ten Brucey.

Shane is a bit grating. The little alliance, oh how they HATE each other. Which is perfect. What I hate is when someone (i.e. Shane) annoys the crap out of someone else (Firedancer girl) and then that someone else proceeds to bad mouth him LOUDLY to any, including Shane, who were within hearing range. Um, shut up david letterman sideshow girl.

The sand wrestling match was kind of funny, with the body slamming and whatnot. I was kind of surprised that the girls seemed to be tougher fighters than the men. Watching dead eyed RuthMarie (or is it Ruth Ann? - it's Ruth something or other) get swung around by Bobby was good tv.

I had no real opinion about the girl they voted out. Misty, I think. meh. whatever, it's too early to care about most of them.

On OLN (outdoor life network) they're showing repeats of Survivor All Stars. I was actually loserish enough to be heard saying "oh, look it's Colby" "Aw, Boston Rob & Amber...look how cute" and "Oh, wow...remember Ethan...yeah, me neither". Like they were old friends. cripes.

We're still watching Little House on the Prairie. They must've taped like 756 episodes per season. I feel like I'm always getting them in from netflix and still, just tonight, we started season two. In which Mary gets glasses. I found it interesting that the optometrist said her eyes were fine, no troubles at all - except for needing glasses. Dude, she goes BLIND, in like, less than a year. Pah, 1800's medicine.

In real life, Laura Ingalls' sister Mary did go blind. Just a spot of useless (or not) trivia information.

Some one at work gave me that James Frey book to read. I'm thinking why bother?

Pitchers and Catchers report tomorrow. The Red Sox now have a center fielder that sounds suspiciously like a box of cereal in my cabinet. I have great hopes for you Coco Crisp. I am sending bad mojo Johnny Damon's way and am hoping that Mr. Crisp has us asking 'Johnny who?' by the middle of May.

Show and Tell

The Show and Tell for Blackbird


the banes of my existence loves of my life.

The ugliest toys in the universe.

I unchildproofed my house today. And NOT because they've been driving me crazy and I'm willing to throw caution to the wind but because my son is almost nine and the girlie is 5 1/2 and I'm just tired of pressing those levers. And if they decide to eat all the cereal in one sitting, pour the rice all over the kitchen floor or stick a sandwich in the VCR, well so be it. Still, they are growing up. And I'm not at all pleased.

I didn't want to like Gray's Anatomy but I do. Alot.

I don't want to like the Bachelor and I almost never watch it. But when I remember it's on I'm there.

I don't want to like those Jack Johnson Curious George songs. But I love that funny little voice of his. Jack's not the monkey.

And it's Valentines Day.

I've begun shunning this holiday in the interest of self preservation. Gifts bought with a sigh at the very last minute should, in my opinion, not be bought at all. I do not like hearing "Oh, are we doing Valentine's Day this year? but I don't have..., I didn't get...".

Enough of that.

We are celebrating with heart shaped pancakes and a treasure hunt with clues like:

It’s big, heavy and black
And the things inside stink
We are always lugging it
Back and forth from the rink.

If you guessed the son's hockey bag you've totally caught on. At least we are supposed to do the treasure hunt...the son was a little, ehem, demanding this morning. Treating me as hired help instead of the woman who stays up late at night making up rhyming clues so they can run like madmen to find their boxes of conversation hearts and such. Ah, love.

Yesterday

The view from the couch

Kitchen Window Feeder


And besides a simmering pot of chicken noodle soup and a game of fetch with the dog in the snow...that pretty much sums up my Sunday.

Snow. Finally.

Oh, Masterpiece Theater....could you not warn me, say with a gentle reminder, that PBS does not have commercial breaks?

I forgot and I feel like if I even miss a minute of Bleak House I'll have missed something major and now...I have to pee.

I am trapped upstairs, leg-a-tapping for 25 more minutes.

From the Horse's Mouth

The latest response:

In determining priority for shipping and inventory allocation, we give priority to those members who receive the fewest DVDs through our service. As a result, those members who receive the most movies may experience that (i) the shipment of their next available DVDs occurs at least one business day following return of their previously viewed movie, (ii) delivery takes longer, as the shipments may not be processed from their local distribution center and (iii) they receive movies lower in their Queue more often than our other members. By prioritizing in this way, we help assure a balanced experience for all our members. Those that rent a lot of movies get a great value and those with lighter viewing habits are able to count on our service to meet their limited needs.


Apparently, this is called throttling. Still cheaper than a video store and yet, leaves me feeling all dirty and used.

Kerplooey!

my head could just about explode right now. And if it does...you people are responsible for seeking justice on my behalf.

You are to email Netflix customer service, a misnomer if ever there was one, and you will bombard them with questions regarding their newly slowwwwwwed doooooown shiiiiiiiiping.

Over a week for me to return one movie and have the next one in my mailbox. Eight days. And that's if it gets here, as promised, on Tuesday. It used to take three or four days so I took it upon myself to send a little inquiry to the folks in charge of those red envelopes of movie watching joy.

Imbiciles.

The first response was a nice cut and paste job from their shipping policy. Yeah, well thanks. Do they not think I know how it works?!?!?! I have been swearing by netflix for almost two years now.

I request a resolution. Twice. What I got was more of the same shipping policy...blah blah...within one day of distribution center...blah blah.... Um, maybe I'm just brilliant or something but I happen to know where BOTH of the cities are that have shipped movies to me. All Two! And the new one, the one they must've just opened that's a 20 minute drive from my home, is much closer than the old one. And certainly not eight days away.

So I will email them yet again, those phantom netflix fools. And I will trust that after the head explosion that's sure to follow their inane response you, my internet blogging friends, will make Diona and Amanda and the rest of the customer service team regret the fact that they couldn't get their heads out of their asses.

So, thanks in advance.

For Lisa. A picture of my super secret dog, Baxter.







The other day Jennifer posted about the seemingly sudden whamo of babies appearing here in blogville. They're here in Southern New England too. My sister in law and one of my best friends are both expecting. Two new little babies coming my way. For a minute or two, I get a little wistful, a slight pang of baby envy. And then it hits me. Which do I want more a baby or an Ipod? And when the answer is an Ipod ~ that's when you know you should be done having babies.

Just sent out the book club email notice. We're up to two members out of about twenty that I find, well...awful. And guess who were the second and third people to respond....You betcha. Ack. Well, take the good with the bad I guess.

The boy is wanting to sign up for lacrosse. Does anyone know anything about this sport? My only recollection is a high school boyfriend who used to end up bruised and bloody after a game. I have a feeling the 8 year old group won't play so rough, but I'm curious now...

So last week a few of you were wondering why my ten year anniversary plans involved a FAMILY vacation - two parents, two kids and a dog.

Well, the dog - has never been to a kennel. And I've tried but the one time he was left overnight at the vet's office they called me bright and early the next morning saying that he had been barking non-stop and they were going to have to sedate him if I couldn't come right down. He doesn't really bark unless he's locked up or tied to a run. But vacationing with him might be negotiable because I could go the pet sitter route but haven't really looked into that yet. We once asked my husband's aunt to watch the dog but it was a nightmare. As in...she left the dog in the cellar unattended for fourteen plus hour stretches and he barked so much he lost his voice. That was a relaxing phone call to get from our neighbor three days into our vacation.

And then there's the big question of who'll watch the kids. My parents don't watch my children unless I am absolutely desperate. Not because they are mean and horrible grandparents and I fear for the kid's safety, but because they don't really WANT to. Ever. And they never come out and actually say it, it's way more passive aggressive than that. With lots of audible sighing and statements like "Well, what will they eat if they come over? - we don't have anything they like". And because attending parent teacher conferences is a guilt ridden experience and my kids have obviously never even spent the night with my parents...well, a week away is unimaginable.

And my inlaws, well, they watch my nephew. All the time. And we do not allow our kids to mix with the nephew unless we are there to directly supervise. He's a sneaky little menace. And so, even if we ask two weeks in advance and they say yes - my sister in law will call up two hours in advance and they'll tell her yes and then call us to say that L. the nephew is coming over too and because J. (husband's sister) has to work, well, that takes preference over our plans. Which is a little (okay, alot) maddening. There is no way they would tell her to find someone else to watch this boy while we were gone. No way. And they are scheduled to watch the nephew (unless J.'s work schedule changes at the eleventh hour, which it does and then we feel guilty because the inlaws finally get a night off and who are we to be honing in on it with babysitting requests) on both Friday and Saturday nights so quick overnight weekends away are pretty much out too.

This bothers us. But not as much as you think it might. Sure, sometimes it's bad with the favoritism from the inlaws and the lack of interest from my parents but in actuality we either get over it or create one of those never ending family squabbles.

And so, with the intent of a vacation being A.) one where we actually vacate and B.) gaining some peace of mind - we will travel together. Plus I would miss them terribly.

I love a mailbox surprise, thanks SQ.

And this...this looks promising. I really like those Coen boys.

The Show and Tell...Monday? Thursday? I need guidance Blackbird.

Turbo Tax is like tax preparation for simple minded, math challenged folk. Me.

Sunday

On Sunday...
My children will take two showers each because my son decided to practice his wrist shots by slapping his hockey stick into a mud puddle soaking himself and his sister in the process. They were laughing so hard I couldn't even pretend to be upset. There is still dirt in the girlie's ears.

On Sunday....
I will try TRY to work at home, during the day, so that I might enjoy a drink or two this afternoon and then watch a movie tonight. I cannot stay focused because I am now posting to the blog instead of transcribing performance reviews. oops.

On Sunday...
I will wonder why my netflix movies are actually taking days longer to get here now that they've opened a mailing center twenty minutes from my house.

On Sunday...
I will do our taxes, for the first time ever on Turbo Tax, and cross my fingers at the outcome...it can't be that hard...can it?

On Sunday...
I will read the Oscar edition of Entertainment Weekly and want to see more than a few of the movies.

Six more weeks of this. This apparently is winter in New England this year. See that mini patch of snow? That's gone now too. *sigh*









Now this? This is winter.











And Survivor...the new four team format...I like it. There was none of that which tribe was he on? confusion. By this point there is no way I can remember most of their names though...they are still Creepy Writer Guy, Chain Smoker and Green Sweatshirt Cleavage Girl. Remembering names is still weeks away.

The Older Women tribe, so disappointing with voting Tina out. And then all that "wow she's off by herself ~ she's so weird, why would she want to sit by herself????" Then cut to Tina and she's crying about her son (oh, survivor editiors ~ how do I love thee?). And honestly, who wouldn't want to sit by themselves after spending the last few days cooped up with a leaf phobic and crazy dead eyed braid lady. Foolish women. I hope they kind of feel like jackasses. Keep the woman who told wannabe survivors to stay on the couch. Brilliant strategy. Jeff Probst is becoming a master of stating the obvious. Ahhhh, Thursdays.

Shit. I just checked the Survivor website. And one of the older women? Is two years younger than me. I'm not crazy about that.

Superbowless Sunday coming up this weekend.

On the bright side? Spring Training is coming up no matter what that groundhog predicts.

The book I chose for my bookclub, well it was from a random list of books that have been recommended to me over the past year. Anyway - I read the rundown on Amazon and it doesn't sound like anything I remember ever hearing of before.

On the bright side? Sounds like it might be good.

My precious 4Runner was backed into today at a stoplight. By a linguica truck.

On the bright side? The damage is limited to the front bumper. We think.

I'm begging off on the Show and Tell this week. My purse is ugly and in the car. Its ugliness is no incentive for me to run out and get it. Next week, with the lamps? I'm in.

So I'm wrapping a package to be sent thru the mail and I find what I'm assuming is the last of a roll of that brown shipping paper (which, btw I love). I cut a nice piece out and flip it over to lay the package on it. I have apparently cut off the right foot of my daughter as this was the paper she had used to have her body traced at Daisy Scouts. gah.

My husband has warned me of the troubles he might have taking a week off this year because his employer views the layoff as his extended vacation (very generous, no?). This year is our ten year anniversary and I've been talking of the week long family vacation for at least a year or two now. My husband is skeptical but says he will ask...I told him to tell the guy that if he doesn't give him a week off at some point this year that he will have to do without my husband for more than a week because his crazy wife was promised, PROMISED this vacation to celebrate our ten year anniversary and well, she might well kill him. And dead is not very effective when operating heavy equipment.

But as he is thankful to be one of the two operators hired back at this point if we are told uh-uh, no way we will accept it and whine in the privacy of our own home (or blog~sorry people, but there will be whining). There are rumors of massive downsizing, the work force cut in half, at this company due to the legal mess they are in. We feel, regardless of this messy mess that he's best to stick with them. Taking the view of lose your good paying, like to do it, enjoy your coworkers job now or lose it later...we'll take our chances and he'll continue on.

And I'll end with a very important question...why are people still buying those pants for their daughters with words like 'cheer' pasted across the butt? ick.