Breakfast conversation

This morning after much arguing the kids finally settled on cereal for breakfast. Princess wanted me to create pancakes, waffles or french toast. Little Dude wanted cereal. You can see who runs this household.

Normally the kids choose MY healthy cereals (Grape Nuts/Wheat Chex) to eat for breakfast instead of the Honey Nut O's or Frosted Shredded variety. This morning they found my box of rice cereal that I use mainly for rice crispy treats. Rice cereal really has no nutrition value at all, in my opinion, so I use it for cooking (bread crumbs/desserts).

When I poured the milk on the cereal, both kids froze; no talking or moving. I had to stop and look around, to make sure something wasn't wrong! Once I realized this was the first time they heard the "snap, crackle, pop" of this cereal, I laughed and explained it was "talking" to them.

Me: "What is your cereal saying?"

Both kids in stereo: "Eat me!"

After I stopped laughing they asked me why it was making that sound. I pointed out the air pockets and explained it was the air pockets filling with milk (bubbles popping).

After the explanation they began eating as if I said the magic words that made this strange cereal, safe to eat.

Deep Thought Gone Wrong

This started out being a short Deep Thought post, however it brought back memories I had long repressed. Due to the thoughts being so horrific, I feel the need to discuss them.

Does anyone else feel like they witnessed something obscene, when you see a guy running (towards you)...in short, shorts? (Higher than mid-thigh, for reference.)

I understand marathon runners needing shorter shorts due to chafing and comfort. I'm just saying I understand, but I don't like the visual effects that are part of it. 

That's where the post started, now I will bring you into a memory of a trip I took with my parents several years ago.

My parents and I took a two week vacation to Greece sometime after I graduated college. Since I love mythology and Greek/Roman architecture this was a dream vacation for me. On the mainland we toured Athens for a few days, before heading to one of the islands. Once we got to the island of Naxos, I tried my best to enjoy the beautiful beaches.

If you have been to European destinations, you realize they are much more relaxed with body image than the US. I'm not talking about just the lack of shaving on the ladies, either. On the beaches, there was nudity, plain and simple. This excited many of the guys in our group, until they realized that the "acceptable age range for nudity" group was either working or going to classes. Being the person I am, I felt that it was now my job, no, it was my duty, to point out any nakedness. I was only trying to ensure they enjoyed their trip too!

We would tour the island and usually stop for lunch at or near the beaches. I could spot nakedness from yards away, yes...I'm a pervert. I would casually mention, "full frontal, 2 o'clock" causing most of the guys in the group to stop and stare. The fun part was (for me) watching the guys take in the nudity....of a very large and hairy woman....or man! Bwah ha ha! The BEST part:  I did this for a week straight, several times daily, and they ALWAYS looked. ALWAYS!

An incident occurred where I was attacked by a sea urchin (I'll tell that story another time) and lost most of my gusto for this wonderful game. On one of the last few days, we took a tour of the island and ended up on a very secluded beach for lunch. I blame the pain in my foot for my momentary loss of intelligence. My dad mentions to me that a fit guy is running down the beach, towards us. I'm thinking Baywatch, what I got was the reason for several recurring nightmares and probably several therapy sessions.




There WAS a very fit guy running down the beach...



he was older.....



like 80.....



and he was running....



naked....



full-on, not a scrap of clothing covering his manly bits.....



as they (the manly bits) tossed themselves to and fro....



running....



towards me!



Needless to say, my father laughed for a long time. He probably still has a chuckle now and then at my expense. Yes, I probably deserved it. Did it teach me a lesson? Hell no, I'm just looking for a way to get even. However, since every time I see a guy running towards me, I have crystal clear and detailed flashbacks, I'm pretty sure there is no chance of payback on this one.

Sprinkler Hell

This is day three of trying to work on a set of sprinklers in my front yard. So you get an accurate picture, this section of front yard is about 40 square feet. Considering the other section, it's small. I am going to change this section from grass into drought tolerant plants.

There is a Raindrip product out there that states you can just outfit your current sprinkler system into drip irrigation...don't even think about it, it doesn't work. Changing your sprinklers to drip irrigation pretty much requires an overhaul, so the easy option will not work. Trust me, I tried it. Granted, I learned a LOT about sprinkler systems that I otherwise wouldn't.

I had some parts leftover from that conversion system and tried them out. They attempt to block the water coming out of the sprinkler head. Essentially you remove the guts and install a plastic device that prevents the water from coming out. What they fail to mention is, this doesn't work on normal water pressure sprinklers. You have to put a pressure regulator at the beginning of the line, then it should work.

Day One
Installed sprinkler plugs, watched water slowly seep out of sprinklers. Figured out it was still less water coming out than when I "turned off" the sprinkler at the head...I hate the Orbit brand, by the way. Found out there was a"new" sprinkler that was covered by 4 inches of grass and dirt. Swore a lot.

Day Two
Decided I was actually going to go ahead with my plan on the drought tolerant garden, in order to save money every month on the water bill. (I live in California. Once the actual gold rush was over, they decided to make water more valuable than gold.)

I dug up what I thought would be the beginning sprinkler head in the system. An hour later, of digging up cement-like dirt, I found out that it was NOT the beginning sprinkler. I also found out that it didn't seem to be connected to the other sprinklers...at least in a way that would make sense.

I dug up the next sprinkler in line, thinking this would be the one! It wasn't, and it seemed to be going towards the sprinkler that didn't seem connected to the others?! I swore a bit. I decided that maybe it connected to the third sprinkler and started digging the pipe up. Another hour later, the pipe turned AWAY from the third sprinkler.

At this point I got out my pipe cutters and fixed both sprinkler heads forever, they are capped off underground. Dirt is filled back in. Only two more sprinklers to go!

Day Three
Began digging up the fourth sprinkler (and the random sprinkler that is attached to the flower garden; don't ask, I have no idea), because it is close to another garden and a sidewalk. It's location seems the most likely to be the source of water. Ha ha ha....

Fortunately this dirt was nice and soft, once you got around/through the tree roots. I discovered that there was a small leak in the pipe and we were personally responsible for watering this awful tree. (My neighbors keep trying to kill the thing, but evidently I was watering it. Oops.)

I was so excited to finally dig out the pipes feeding the sprinklers!

When I dug down to the pipes and discovered not only were they not the inlet, both were leading away from any other attached sprinkler, I actually sat down and cried.

I started digging along the line in hopes of finding the inlet. After about two hours, I found where the pipes turned...one went toward the other random pipes and the other was a T junction. So now I have at least 4 pipes that somehow have to attach to an inlet source, and each other, but don't...yet.

However, now that I'm away from the leaking pipe, the dirt has turned back into cement consistency and I have run out of energy/muscle power. Since I am an optimist, I keep telling myself that I'll find the inlet in the next foot of dirt. (I'm wrong a lot - but only when it comes to my optimism.) I tried to get the kids to help, but I think after they witnessed me sit down and cry, they seem to think they should stay far away from this project. (Even the 8 year old neighbor girl, after looking at the pipes, told me, "Those don't look right.")

In response to my optimism being continually smashed by the sprinklers at this house I've decided that my following thoughts are justified. 

I have just reserved a special spot in hell for the sprinkler installer, who previously worked on my home. (He will share company with the person who used so many carpet staples when they installed the carpet padding.)

Every time this person needs to go somewhere, he has to dig up cement-like dirt in order to find the pipes. Once he finds the pipes, he can only travel in the direction that the pipes lead. At some point, he should be able to figure out what is a straight line and an acceptable way to lay pipe.

As for the carpet stapler guy....every time he needs to take a step, he has to remove the carpet staples from his shoes. At some point, he should figure out that 100 staples per square inch is overkill.

Now I need to go finish digging up my lawn. I can't leave the holes in the yard. The HOA would probably not like it, and some idiot would step in and break something. Wish me luck!

Happy Father's Day!

I've noticed in the blogging world that you get all these ideas of things to post about, you write them out and then you notice that your post is going off in another direction. Usually you stop, save that post, then write a completely different post that reflects your mood. Evidently I do this a lot because I have tons of saved drafts.
I started the following post several months ago, but I felt today was definitely an appropriate day as far as publishing.

I have had a horrible morning.

As soon as I saw the drastically flattened tire, I knew it needed air. So I waited the 30 minutes for our air compressor to fill and fixed the problem. 

After dropping Little Dude off late to school and coming home, I noticed it was going flat again. 

The flat tire has a screw poked through the tire and I can hear the air leaking around it. 

I realized that it obviously has a leak that was pretty dangerous to drive. I knew how to change the tire so I could drive somewhere safely to repair the tire.

This single flat tire now becomes four brand new tires because the others needed to be replaced.

I also broke my favorite pair of cheap sunglasses and my beloved tiger zoo cup exploded at the tire dealer.

I just spent more money than I had budgeted for this month, my sunglasses are crooked and I am still smiling. 

No, I haven't started drinking the wine...yet.

I'm happy because of something that happened many years ago, that enabled me to deal with this situation. 

My dad took the time to teach me some general car maintenance. He taught me how to jump start a car, change a tire, the oil, air filter, fuses and even spark plugs.

Yes, I have AAA, but sometimes it's just quicker/easier to fix the problem yourself.

I wanted to send a big THANK YOU out to all the dad's (or even the guys that are filling father roles) that take the time to teach their kids important day-to-day things, especially when it comes to cars. Today's cars are basically a computer running an engine, so even changing the oil can be a complicated task. (Don't even ask me about the Prius!)

I also want to personally thank my dad for teaching me "guy" things. I wasn't always grateful during these teaching sessions, but after "growing up" and having my own kids, I am extremely grateful now. I'm especially grateful for all the household repair/woodworking lessons.

I can paint whole rooms, wallpaper (I won't, but I can do it), fix electrical issues, install ceiling fans with no existing light fixtures, fix sprinklers and pipes, build my own garden beds, and the list goes on. For the last seven months, while my husband is in school in Rhode Island, I have been able to maintain and upgrade our house, due to the lessons I received from my dad.

Thank you dad! Happy Father's Day!

My kids remind me of a Petri dish

I have been fighting off being sick for a couple of days now. After a horrible night's sleep, losing my voice and a fever I am finally throwing in the towel. This means I don't have to go to work tomorrow, yay! I get to call in sick!

Wait...my job is being a mom. I don't get to skip a day. I don't get to call in sick. If Military Dad were here, I could at least get a nap or slip into my Nyquil induced coma. However, we still have over a month before we get him back.

Our nearest family member is 10 hours away. Yes, we have friends that can help. However with me being sick, it's possible that my kids have my cooties, and there is one thing you don't want to pass on to another family.

Cooties seem like an innocent word; cute almost. Cooties are actually bad, sadistic little things that mutate into the things that nightmares are made of. (Yes, I have an imagination.)

When I was younger, my dad and I would blame my mom for bringing all sorts of nasty germs home. She worked in the banking industry...you don't even want to know where your money has ever been, trust me!

My mom would come home sick with a simple cold, however it seemed that simple cooties in her body would mutate into deadly viruses. Her cold would last 2 days at most, the deadly virus she would pass on to my dad and me would leave us in agony for weeks!

Growing up, I imagined the insides of my mom were more like a Petri dish, just waiting for cooties to multiply into something horrible. (The TV series Fringe - that cold virus episode, yep, now you're getting close.) However after having kids of my own, I figured out that she was like a Petri dish, but only because of her job. (You thought I was going to say that she wasn't!)

Her job made her come in contact with all sorts of nasty stuff on a daily basis. The only time it was worse was when she worked for a bank, INSIDE a hospital. Fortunately I didn't live at home then and I think my dad traveled a lot, so major catastrophes were averted.

I recently figured out the secret to the germ/cootie mutation issue. It isn't necessarily the person, it's their environment. For example: in my house, I am a stay at home mom, so in my daily errands I come in contact with a lot of different people, my children, on the other hand, are in school.

Pay attention because here's the secret: the person that is exposed to the nastier germs will be the "carrier," ALWAYS. The other people's germs get a smack down and are told to conform or die...so they conform. Then the germs get along so well, they get married and have baby cooties.

The "carrier" is exposed to this stuff daily, so they create an immunity. The carrier then brings it home and sheds germs, left and right, to the poor victims that live with them. Little Dude is in preschool and Princess is in elementary, so I'm pretty sure they are equally both carriers due to their environments.

The issue is:  due to their individual immunities, they get/give colds from/to each other. What they both give to me is comparable to a typhoon of germs. I have no immunity for this onslaught! My poor cooties just keel over and die, they don't even conform!

While Little Dude has a stuffy nose, I get a stuffy/runny nose, chills and a fever. While Princess has itchy eyes and sneezing, I get a cough, sore throat and head aches.

Once Military Dad comes home I will definitely get more help in order to fight off the invasion. Yes, he will bring his own germs into the mix, however no one can ever hope to battle school cooties and win. Therefore, Military Dad's primary duty when he gets home is to take a more active role in sharing the incoming germs. Then I can hope to survive the common cold instead of the plague.

Deep Thought for 6/7/13

If you followed my last "Deep Thought" post, you know that I am trying out random thoughts on my victims readers.

Here is today's deep thought:

Whenever you use someone else's restroom and their toilet paper is wrong (under/over, not brand), do you fix it, or suffer through?

Deep Thought for 6/11/13

I find it amazing that my dog can understand the different alarms on my phone. I use my phone for my daily alarms, so each alarm has a different sound so I instantly know which alarm is going off.

The first alarm in the morning is the "wake up and eat breakfast" alarm. Both dogs jump up and run downstairs for this alarm. If I hit snooze they slowly walk back upstairs and stare at me at the end of the bed.

The second alarm is the "go in the crate" alarm, because the people are leaving the house. 

The third alarm is the "TIME TO GO FOR A WALK" alarm. This alarm instantly means the dogs go running towards the leashes. If we are slow on the uptake, they will run from us to the leashes repeatedly, until we catch on.

I have conditioned my dogs in true Pavlovian style, therefore I should get an award. Granted, I think they (the award presenters) would expect the dogs to listen to my commands, such as "sit," "lie down," and "STOP EATING THE TISSUE BOXES!!!"

The dogs understand what these electronic noises mean and they react correctly. However, when a noise emits from their rear end, the world actually stops. Our bigger dog, Maggie, is absolutely amazed that her butt makes noises occasionally. She will get up and stare at her rear end, I guess she's waiting to see if more noises will come out. After awhile she will go back to sitting or lying down, but she will look back every few minutes, just in case. Our rat (terrier) dog, Gracie, has actually growled a few times when this happens, or she will jump up and run away from where the noise happened.

This makes me think: you know they have to feel it about to happen, they must feel it happening, why can't they associate that noise with the butt vibrations? It is truly baffling.