Monday, February 23, 2009

Phone Home

If you ever want to guarantee yourself some quality fun time, just do the following: Get a new little cell phone for the kids -- and then tell em they aren't allowed to use it for anything fun.

About a week ago I got one of those Pay-as-You-Go phones so that when the kids go out with friends or to an activity we can contact them.

Although they are normally unable see a huge pile of trash, stains on their clothes, or, say, a baby lying on the floor -- they instantly detected the 1 1/2 inch x 3 inch piece of black technology lying on the black table in the dark room.

"Whose phone?" a hopeful, Jason-toned voice asked.

We began:
"It is not YOUR phone... it is not your sister's phone... it is OUR phone, and you we will give it to you to use when you go out and we want to get a hold of you."

BIG SMILE ON FACE

We continued...
"...You will call us, we will call you. That is it."

A smile remains.

We went on...
"... You will not give the number to Patrick, you will not give the number to John...."

Smile begins to waiver slightly.

"... you will not text message. We call you, you call us. THE END."

The words "you will not text message" were the winners.
I watched as Jason's face formed a cartoon-mesh of colors and then slow-motion melted to the floor in a disappointed puddle.

Ah, good times... good times.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Random Bits

In a salute to my attention span and ever-decreasing ability to focus on anything that doesn't involve closing my eyes, I shall spout tiny random thoughts at you:

* How is it possible to go through an entire roll of paper towels in one day -- even without the semi-mandatory massive spill of something sticky?

* When getting set up to take some pictures, Sarah suggested she be my lighting tester. We need some better pics of her anyway -- since, as self-appointed lighting tester, 98% of her pics are in a fuzzy blur of not-right bounce light. I agreed, but looked at her blazing pink striped shirt and religious (aka holey) jeans and said I'd want her to change clothes. "But I'm cute." she said sincerely.
Ok.
So now we have pics of her in a bright pink shirt and torn jeans. And, yeah, she looked cute.

* Here is some totally cute for ya: Sarah decided that on Valentines Day she needed to make a special meal for her dad and me. She made us stay out of the kitchen, and only whispers and clatters were heard for many hours. 84 pots and a roll of paper towels later, hubby and I were permitted into the kitchen where we found a candle-lit table, silk flowers, a dinner of pork chops, and, to add to the elegance, diet pepsi and dr. pepper in wine glasses.

* I officially hate Calliou. (http://pbskids.org/caillou). What an annoying little snot. The whiny little Weeble-Wanna be is supervised by an army of stepford parents, teachers and neighbors and lives in a world where he does nothing wrong.
One episode saw Calliou "accidentally" drawing in a Library book. "That's ok, Calliou" said the Librarian... "...I can clean it."
Nooooooooooooooooo.
It is NOT ok. The point is not whether or not she manages to fix his mess, the point is he needs to be told NOT to do it!
Jason and I like to joke that a future episode will show Calliou setting the local mall on fire with gasoline and a blow torch, and then having his parent's say "It's OK Calliou, we knew you were just trying to keep your sister warm."

* STATUS UPDATE: The bike has moved. Don't know when. Don't know how. But it moved. Or finally disintegrated into a pile of rusted dust. Not sure which.

* Jason very kindly greeted his father yesterday with "Bappy Hirthday" and then took off to hang with his friends while the rest of the family did birthday stuff together. He then came home, played some video games, had some cake, and shrugged when his behavior was pointed out to him.

* On the Jason note:
These things are impossible to remember:
-- taking out the trash
-- bringing home a school status report
-- his father's birthday
-- what a trash can is
-- what a laundry basket is
-- what clean dishes vs dirty dishes look like

These things are easy to remember:
-- The release date and spec details of the upcoming Nintendo DSi.
-- DS Guitar Hero Gameplay: "That song is: 'yellow, yellow, yellow, red, blue, long red, blue blue, long yellow, red, red, red, yellow, green, green, long blue, long blue, yellow, long red, green, green, yellow, long yellow, red, blue, long green....'"

* Why does every perishable item have to go on the middle shelf of the refrigerator?

* How is it possible that I can purchase the Extreme Mega Pack of pens at Sam's Club (ie, about 4,694 quantity) and then have nothing to write with two days later?

* If nobody ever uses my black sharpies... then where are they living? Did they form a commune somewhere outside a farm in Utah?

Thursday, February 12, 2009

IPODs are Not Essential For Life (unless we are talking about mine, that is)

MEMO

DATE: FEBRUARY 12, 2009
TO: JASON & SARAH
FROM: THE MAD STEPMOTHER
*********************************

Please be advised that, despite information from friends to the contrary, IPODS and their accompanying earbuds do not provide energy, nourishment, or the increased ability to obliterate colorful cartoon creatures who breathe acidic fire.

Therefore, it is important to note that you will not fall into an instantaneous coma if the earbuds are removed, or the IPOD is (gasp) turned OFF.

It is especially essential to consider this when you are being spoken to by another member of your family. Additionally, if the author of this Memo (aka Mad Stepmother) has to again repeat herself a 4th time because the 8th Chapter of Harry Potter is more important that whatever trivial thing she might be mouthing, you will then become witness to her head popping off.
In case you are wondering: this is not a good thing.
Such an event would no doubt render your IPODs unusable, as it is often hard to turn them on after they have accidentally been through the garbage disposal.

Thank you for your consideration to this matter.
I know I can count on your kind cooperation.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Countdown Part 2

Thanks for tuning into another Vicious Biatch Broadcast.

In our last report we told you how the kid's mom called last night asking to visit them this weekend.
Unable to discuss it with my husband at that time (he works night shift and was asleep), she said she would set her alarm for 9:00am this morning and call him then.

It is 11:50am.
We're still waiting.

This is what she does EVERY time.
"I'll call back to make final arrangements..." then she never calls back.

Luckily, I never told the kids she called.
And, for better or worse, we are telling her that the kids cannot meet with her this weekend because they have plans.
Which they do.
No lie.
But THIS TIME we are not going to cancel their plans just in case she decides to show.

(deeeep breath again)

Monday, February 9, 2009

Countdown

If I was a vicious biatch...
(Which of course, I'm not)
(Really...I'm not)
(I would never say or do mean things. Ever.)

I would never, say, tell a teacher at Jason's school that I thought we might as well only send him during the last week -- because those are the only grades that matter and that it is stupid that he can have a D all semester and then pass with a B or C just because of one project or test...

(deeeeeep breath)

Where was I?

Oh yeah... if I were a vicious biatch... then I would now begin a new rant about the kids' mom and how she had BETTER DAMN WELL NOT LET THEM DOWN AGAIN this weekend.

The good news is she still has a job. And it seems to be the same job she got a couple months ago.
This is definitely GOOD.
Hopefully it shows she is growing some new focus and responsibility.

The bad (?) news is she just called and wants to see the kids this weekend.

(incredibly deep sigh)
(tapping teeth with pencil)
(typing... deleting... typing... deleting...

Ok.
Well.
Anyone who has read this blog on any semi-regular basis knows that she has left them staring out the window forlornly the last times she has planned a visit. She schedules it... the kids cancel plans and anticipate the weekend... then... we never hear from her again and she won't answer her phone (assuming she has one).

This afternoon, upon answering the phone and hearing her visitation request, every atom in my body imploded with the desire to scream "Hell no!" followed by "Oh, so you plan to actually SHOW UP this time?"

But no.
I am not a vicious biatch.
I'm not.

I am hoping my husband will do the duty for me.
But I doubt it.
He'll give her onnnnnne moooore chance (again).

Keep tuned to this Station for Updates as they Happen.
This is your Vicious Biatch Broadcast... signing out.
Good night.. and have a sucky tomorrow.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Where Are You?

Arrrrgh.
Sarah wanted to call her mom today because it is her mom's birthday.
So she called the new cell phone number we just got about 2 months ago.
"This phone is not in service."

So we said "Well try [guy she is currently with]."
HIS phone is disconnected.

Again we have NO WAY to get a hold of the kid's mother. Not for good news... not for bad news... etc.

I understand she has problems paying her bills, but if she is going to keep letting phones be turned off, can't she at least borrow someone's phone for two minutes? All she has to do is call and say "Hey kids, my phone is off, if you need to get a hold of me, leave a message at "X" number." ????

This is so frustrating.
What if one of the kids got hurt or sick?
She doesn't even have partial custody, but still, as their mom we would want her to know. But repeatedly she let's herself be cut off entirely from them.

All I can do is sigh.

Cause I'm a Blond

I've always thought Sarah was a pretty intelligent person, but lately I've begun to wonder. It almost seems as her brain is now encapsulated in her blondness like the tootsie roll at the center of a tootsie pop.

Witness this mornings conversations:

HER: If school is two hours late what time do we have to leave?
ME: (one eyebrow raised like Spock) Uhhmmm... if you normally leave at 7:15 you'll leave at 9:15.
HER: Oh. I wasn't thinking.
ME: I know.

(then... a bit later)

HER: They just announced that school is closed two hours late.
ME: (looks at her)