June Cleaver Nirvana

It appears that the city in which I live is balancing the budget on the back of its hurried citizens.

It started a few months ago when road construction began...well, not the actual construction, but the cones and warning flags for the actual construction. A new and improved speed limit had been set 10 mph lower than the original with minimal new and improved signs. The way I figured it out was through watching the plight of fellow citizens pulled over with lights flashing in between the cones of impending construction.

I am quick like that.

Since that time the actual construction has arrived and along with it a fleet of enforcement. I feel lucky to drive the road frequently because I now expect dark colored police vehicles with low rise lights tucked away in every driveway, tree cove and blind corner.

I pity our town's unsuspecting visitors.

To give you an idea as to the density of which I speak, I counted 7 law enforcement vehicles in the 3.5 mile stretch of this road between town and my house.

Wow! That is an impressive ratio of public to public safety - especially considering that the city planners have dictated that lot size in this portion of town exceed 2 acres per house. I dare say that the resident population is now rivaled by the law enforcement population.

Obviously, I have slowed down. Not that I ever am INTENTIONALLY non-law abiding, I just get bored driving slow. I am happy to report that my law abidingness has kept me speeding ticketless for nearly 3 years.

Impressive.

Yesterday when I drove Ryan to school I noticed a police cruiser parked in a new location. An area where there is no construction, in fact he was at least a mile from the heavily patrolled construction zone.

Was he lost?

It didn't look like it. It looked deliberate and clever. His black car was disguised in the shadows of a forest on a quiet corner.

The road should go straight here, but it appears years ago someone built a house and then they built the road around it. I drive this way multiple times a day, multiple times a week. All that practice has allowed to me to negotiate the corner without harm.

Repeatedly.

I passed the cruiser and then made a mental note that in 5 minutes on my return trip I would abide by the speed limit.

Which I did.

All 15 mph of it.

The speed warning zone starts 100s, maybe 1000s of yards prior to the actual corner.

It took every ounce of my self control to actually drive under 15 mph for the ENTIRE corner as witnessed by the my city's best.

At first it felt like I was walking.

And then I felt like I was stalled.

And then I actually had the sensation of backward movement.

While rounding the slow motion corner I had time to think...

I thought and thought and thought.

And then it occurred to me. In the history of that corner it is very probable that no car has ever made it completely around within the letter of the law.

I am the first.

I really should get some sort of prize.

A medal.

Or parade.

And then I wondered why would they set a speed limit SO LOW that it is impossible to follow?

Did I mention the city budget issues?

Crap, they probably won't have any money left over for my parade...

The kid's meal at Chick-fil-A usually has educational books or toys. Most likely it is something the boys play with for a few moments and then discard. The books go into our bookshelf to be read later. The toys usually find their way into the trash or donation bin.

This week Chick-fil-A's bonus in the child's meal is this insect model:



Reid was thrilled. He wanted to put it together at the restaurant, but because I am such a wise mommy I encouraged waiting until we got home so I could help with less distraction.



I started on the instructions. Following each fairly vague direction to the best of my ability.

My mommy assembly resume is impressive:
1. Ikea furniture.
2. Transformers (into and out of the action figure/motor vehicle).
3. Legos.
4. Magnet sets.
5. Tinker Toys.
I could go on. Let's just say, I can put things together.

Approximately an HOUR later I had produced this:



Not bad! It resembles a dragonfly.



Reid took one look at it and started to complain...



"It is missing a wing."
"You didn't put it together right."
"This is upside down."

Details!
Details!
Details!

I thought I had adequately hidden this:



Oops. Extra wing. Really, who needs more than one?

Let's review what I accomplished in the last hour.

I took this...



...and turned it into this:



About that time blog-Stedman came in from work. He took one look at my dragonfly and stated:

"It is missing a wing."
"You didn't put it together right."
"This is upside down."

Details!
Details!
Details!

I handed him the disfigured dragonfly and the instructions and told him to go fix it.

About 30 minutes later he returned with this:



Overachiever.

Note to Chick-fil-A: Your child's toy took two people with a combined 13 years of higher education 1 1/2 hours to assemble.

Right before bed tonight, Reid was holding his dragonfly close to his heart and said, "I can't wait until we go back to Chick-fil-A and get the bumble bee..."

A few evenings ago I received a call from an organization to which we have regularly donated money:

Hello! Is blog-Stedman there?

No, he is working.

Oh! Then I will call him back another time!

Is this about a donation?

Yes!

I am his wife. I can handle this. I will give you $50.

Blog-Stedman gave $100 last year!

I will give you $50.

I am only taking matches or ups!

I said I would give you $50.

Your husband gave $100 last year!

I said I will give you $50. Are you going to take it?

Oh. I guess so...



And now for a totally random photo I took last week:

This is my tissue box:



Which is fine except really nothing in my entire house is that tealish-jewel-tone-80s-prom-dress-that-has-been-collecting-dust-in-my-closet-for-20-years-fading-and-slowly-rotting-away-greenish color. Lucky for me it also comes in this color:



Which is fine except really nothing in my entire house is that pepto-pinkish-chewed-up-bubble-gum-that-was-spit-on-the-sidewalk-and-trapped-into-the-crevices-of-your-shoe-only-to-be-deposited-on-your-new-beige-carpet-where-the-dog-licked-it-until-you-put-her-outside-to-clean-up-the-mess-while-your-children-created-a-river-in-the-extra-bath-by-building-a-sink-damn-washed-out-rosish color. Lucky for me it also comes in this color:



Which is fine except really nothing in my entire house is that greyish-skies-so-dark-it-could-be-a-storm-brewing-or-it-could-just-be-those-blue-feelings-that-you-consider-committing-yourself-to-a-mental-institution-for-a-48-hour-watch-and-really-blue-is-much-prettier-then-this-so-you-are-insulting-blue-when-you-call-it-blue-bluish color.

What is with "decorative" tissue boxes?

There is really no excuse for this. The companies that produce these spend millions of dollars in product research. They employ thousands of employees dedicated to bringing me a box of tissue. Why couldn't they employ an artist or interior designer in JUST ONE of those positions?

Let's go shopping! I obviously missed the "really good stuff" on the paper products aisle:



What is THAT color? And for the record I have never ever seen a rose look so gloomy.



Alright! Finally something with some sort of style. But this only was made in bright fuschia because everyone's kitchens, bathrooms and bedrooms are bright fuschia!



Here is a simple design 4 pack. With a grey sunflower, an weird orangish sunflower and two purple sunflowers. So, let me get this straight...they are selling this in a 4 pack because they expected that these 3 colors will fit right into my house?

Before you start re-painting your walls grey sunflower, weird orangish and too purple, you might want this information:



Yes, my dear reader, you will have to ACT QUICKLY because this set is for a limited time ONLY!

So then I saw this three pack:



I liked the top box:



Despite it being in a color scheme of pink and orange. I was going to look beyond that just because it was cute. Well, in context of the world of "decorative" tissue boxes it was cute.

It was packaged with this soccer-themed box (which sports that same weird green color):



And this perky box:


Which required closer inspection. I then noticed they all have this label:



Yes, this is Puff's "anything but old-school" series. Finally, a tissue company puts the EDGY back in blowing your nose. This is what I have been waiting for.



Graffiti art tissue boxes...



decorated with skulls.

Perfect for my yellow painted GRUNGE themed masterbath...

Holly has been doing a lot of thinking. Holly has been doing extensive investigating. Holly finds that the best solution to her problem may be installing one of these:



Holly has decided that a porta-potty, johnnie-on-the-spot, porta-john may be her only option. She has decided that this is the location for her new purchase:



Why would Holly who lives in a lovely suburban neighborhood in a house that could (but doesn't) have a white picket fence with complete indoor plumbing choose to install a porta-potty, johnnie-on-the-spot, porta-john?



It might have something to do with the plunger that is permanently attached to Holly's left arm. Holly's left arm is tired of plunging. Holly has noticed that she is starting to choose outfits in the morning based on whether they match the plunger attached permanently to her left arm.

Holly is wearing green hoping that her green-wearing karma will overcome her low-flow toilet hating soul. Holly's low-flow toilet hating soul is dark, very dark. Holly's low-flow toilet hating soul is deep, very deep. Holly's low-flow toilet hating soul is attached to a body sporting a plunger as a permanent fixture.

Holly's low-flow toilets seem to have something against the act of flushing.



Hey low-flow toilets...why are you so anti-flush?

Holly also wonders what is the point of low-flow toilets if she has to attempt flushing them three kazillion times with intermittent plunging. Ironically Coincidentally, that is the exact same decibel (three kazillion) Holly's voice hits when she hears, "Mommy! The toilet isn't working!"

So, until Al Gore dedicates his life to plunging Holly's low-flow toilets or suitable alternatives in the United States of Low-Flow Toilets (US of LF T) are legal. Holly is planning this drastic action.

Holly will no longer allow people to use the INDOOR toilets. Holly will lead them to the OUTDOOR toilet which never needs plunging despite the level of crap.



Holly can only hope that the proximity to the patio of the new porta-potty, johnny-on-the-spot, porta-john could encourage its use by a certain Holly's dog...

Today I am contributing cherry frosted pop-tarts gently toasted in honor of this historic time and place where Monday potlucks have its own badge. Thanks to the mad skillz of Nap Warden my little potluck looks a lot yummier. Check out her NW Designs for some really cool projects (please don't tell her that her prices are VERY reasonable until she is done with my very long to-do list).

Thanks to Burgh Baby's Mom for this fun valentine. I would like to pass it on to Jodi, M2B, HC, Jen and Fussy in honor of this new site--TODAY.

Last week I was in Williams-Sonoma and overheard this end of a cell phone conversation delivered by a very well dressed, very tall man: "It is just a matter of time until the word gets out and then Wal-Mart is going down". WHAT? You heard it first here... Wal-Mart is going down.

Dear Lunchables,
I don't buy you, but blog-Stedman sometimes does the shopping over which I have no control (deep cleansing breaths) so please take note that when you label every package inside with "Congratulations" you have won my 6 y/o who can read such things goes wild. It then takes 20 minutes to explain to him that a one month subscription to some online gaming site isn't really much of a prize. It is NOT NICE to parents. And what part of Nachos is real food?
Holly

I don't mean to be a complainer, but it is going to be 80 degrees today. Feb. 4? What happened to "in-between" temps?

Disclaimer: Blogger spell check is still not operating so please forgive my inability to spell correctly.

After watching a full day of PBSkids on Friday, I will have to say that pretty much everything on that channel is awful. The more recent crop of children's programming seems to find it necessary to "engage its audience" by asking them questions in the middle of the story. This is what it looks like at my house...
Perky TV animal shouts while looking in the camera "Hey, what is your favorite color?"
In my living room are 3 boys staring but stone silent.
Perky TV animal responds, "Oh! I LOOOOOOVE that color. You are such a good color picker"
In my living room are 3 boys staring but stone silent.
Perky TV animal sings, "Lets all do the rainbow dance! First you move your arms and legs..."
In my living room are 3 boys staring but stone silent.
Perky TV animal stops dancing to state, "Wow! You do the rainbow dance better then anyone I have ever seen! Good job, Friend!"
In my living room are 3 boys staring but stone silent.
ENOUGH. Stop trying to "Interact" with my children AT HOME THROUGH THE TV! Stop trying to "build up their self-esteem" with stupid affirmative statements after they have contributed NOTHING. And above all, TV CHARACTERS ARE NOT FRIENDS!
*Fade to black*

Dear blog-Stedman,
You have known me for 18 1/2 years now and that has given you a long and persuasive argument that I ride the short bus in the technology department. You have always set up the new computers, TVs, TiVos, Replay TVs, VCRs, DVD players, Sonos, video games, and many other black boxes with buttons that I can't name. It is true I interact with Comcast, DirectTV, and Time Warner after you tell me what to say, but even their 19 year old phone bank employee sitting in India named "Bob" knows that I am a fake. I am requesting further inservice on our equipment. This is what I need to know how to do:
1. I would like to be able to change the channels on the TV.
2. I would like to record Project Runway once a week, but could give 24 hr. notice.
3. I would like to be able to make and receive phone calls on both my home and cell phone.
4. I would like to be able to get on the computer to write a blog and read other's.

Is that too much to ask? Really, compared to all the tasks that are possible with our electronic set-up, I am a simple girl.

I am writing because today I am 1/4 on my list. I think it is obvious that I have only been able to access my blog. My home phone isn't working in my bathroom, my Project Runway didn't record last week and most disturbingly, I AM UNABLE TO CHANGE THE CHANNEL ON THE TV for the boys. Great, they are subjected to another "A Baby Story"--that won't come back to haunt us later. I have tried the 6 remotes at the TV, switched the input, cross-identified the 6 remotes at the TV, switched the input, held my tongue out while balancing on one leg while entertaining 3 boys about to witness a live screen birth, turn down the sound (because all that screaming is disturbing to me as well) and nothing. I give up...Oh, good...another episode of "A Baby Story"...

With love and irritated kisses,
Holly

Dear Toy Manufacturer that is a 3 letter word that starts with "C" and is not "DOG",

Reid has been your biggest fan since birth. I have been on board until this Christmas. Until recently, your toys have been relatively tough with a decent price. This year Reid spotted your remote control excavator at Target with a price tag in the $60 range. I spotted that it looked like a piece of total plastic crap (the remote wasn't even wireless...which would have made it a very expensive pull toy in my house). Blog-Stedman researched it because it was all Reid could talk about and found that yes, it is a piece of total plastic crap according to parents all over the country. I felt so blessed by Costco when I walked in to their store in November and found the exact same excavator sans the wired remote for $30. I figure if you are going to buy total plastic crap, price matters. I went home victorious with the knowledge that this toy would be out of commission by New Years, but that the money saved would be put into another toy that might make it into 2008.

On faux-Christmas morning (3 days prior to the real thing if you aren't keeping up with my riveting blog), Reid opened the excavator with great joy proclaiming, "I knew Santa was going to bring this!" and I set about the process of removing it from the box. I know parents across the country would gladly join me in a protest march against PWPTTRACSTRT (People Who Package Toys That Require A ChainsSaw To Remove Them), but this was a new one for me: I had to unscrew 8 phillips headed screws to get into the box and when I turned the toy over to remove 4 additional phillips headed screws to release it from a cardboard platform something on the excavator arm broke. Great. It didn't even make it out of the box, let alone until REAL Christmas. On the hellishly annoying bright side, all the very loud sounds and non-melodic music still work perfectly.

It is my plea that next year you produce something that is sturdier then the cardboard box that contains it. Just a suggestion, but maybe you could get your crack PWPTTRACSTRT team on that.

Fervently,
Holly

I am calling for a ban of the Christmas carol (and I use that term loosely), "The Little Drummer Boy". My argument consists of this: it is awful.

Why does everything associated with Christmas that a family would use to decorate their home need a sign, "handle with care"? I think I have found the underlying cause for 90% of stress during the holiday season--everything is either fragile or flammable. And they say Christmas is for kids. And I am already over the whole snow globe thing, really!

The picture is of the boys glued to the "Nutcracker Suite" music box that was given our family last year by Mimi. They love that thing, but can only behave in front of it for 1.5 revolutions of the suite. So it starts with brotherly love and excitement and ends with mommy turning it off and shooing the boys upstairs with threats of coal in stockings.

I have a huge pet peeve around the holidays--ugly public decorations. I really believe (as demonstrated by the lack of outdoor decorations on my house) that no Christmas decorations are better than hideous ones. I will grant latitude for nostalgic kitsch and Griswold extravaganzas. I also extend slack to homeowners who are just trying to spread a little cheer. What drives me insane is really bad mall decorations. Yep, you know it when you see it and you probably have the sanity to just pass by, but not me! I just have to ponder what would posess someone/committee to say, "we have to buy this over-priced crap and display it for all to see"! Do they think if their decorations are festively tacky that it will make all the other junk in the mall look better by comparison? And you might say, "oh, they purchased that super tinsely crap years ago when that was the style and just keep putting it up year after year" and then I say to you (this is where I win our argument), "that doesn't explain the brand new mall that is near my house that has some of the worst decorations I have ever seen..."! Now, what do you say to that? You know I am right and next time I might have pictures...

Greg, who is now calling himself my blog-Stedman, purchased a plug in vaporizor thing to help with stuffy noses. When he plugged it in last night we found that it also had a blue nightlight which cannot be turned off independently. This is where I go all high-maintenance...a bedroom should be completely dark. No nightlight. No light from electronic devicesssss. No light from security system key pads. No light from the moon coming in through the blackout shades. No light whatsoever! So the vaporizer cast a blue light throughout the room causing dreams that I was sleeping on aisle 3 of K-Mart.

Please note the slide show at the bottom of my blog. It was quite the learning experience for me and quite a lofty achievement from my non-tech brain. I am finding that in order to keep up with my creative side in 2007, I must continue in tech training. People who call my cell phone just realize that they will be likely hung up on at some point in time. I have accepted that I can't run my fancy phone (even with Kelby & White's 219 page "The iPhone Book" which I have carefully studied and I should have posted on my reading list). It is my opinion that this whole computer thing has gotten out of control. I think that originally things were done a certain way because of primitive computers and now that things COULD be easier they are now more complicated because they have to do it the way people are used to doing it PLUS adding a bunch of new features with new ways to control them and together it all doesn't make sense. Give me a break--start from scratch and then give me a call (and I will try not to hang up on you).

I am calling for a class action law suit against the inventor of the snow globe. I have now cleaned up the remains of TWO broken snow globes in the last 15 minutes (yes, you read that correctly). The whole idea is flawed. Who thought it would be a good idea to place water and glitter inside a very flimsy and slick piece of spherical glass, put the musicbox winder under the base and then encourage shaking? Kids cannot keep their hands off these things and obviously mine don't have the coordination to handle it. You will be able to see the residual glitter stuck permanently into my distressed wood floors for years to come. The good news is that there are only 2 more snow globes to go...

I want to publicly announce that my yoga teacher is trying to kill me--just in case anything happens...I started yoga about 4 years ago for the childcare at the gym. I chose yoga because I don't like to sweat (OK, that is 2 of my high-maintenance tendencies in one blog which seems a bit much for one morning...). I continued it because I always feel better when I leave then when I came in. I like the fun and chatty yoga classes, not the militant zen ones. Unfortunately for me, the further you get into yoga the harder it becomes. And the whole sweating thing...I am now going to hot yoga (not the crazy Bikram kind) but it is hot and well you can fill in the rest.

Last night was good TV night. We watched The Amazing Race--my team is still in it, but last at this point and blog-Stedman's was eliminated last night which was awesome for me, but undeserved for them. I then had this week's Project Runway on RePlay and watched that as well. I still don't have a favorite on that show, but would wear the top two designs last night in a minute (WHOA...high-maintenance tendency #3...I better just stop here).

I am on your catalog list because I found your website and ordered something over the internet. I can get online, I can search, I can find, I can purchase. You can stop sending me the catalogs TODAY. Save your time, save the paper! Because of you I need to use my kid's wagon to bring in the mail. STOP SENDING ME YOUR CATALOG! I found you once, I can find you again when I need you. Thanks for listening since the "Do not send" list takes months to activate!

There are two things I do not understand about recent changes in programming for the cradle roll programs at church which seem to be in several of the churches we have visited, not just our local church. One is that snacks are always served and usually with some sort of red, sugary drink in a dixie cup (and for many this age this is the first time/only time they are not drinking out of a sippy cup). Why you would want to fill up children with sugar and send them in to sit quietly in their red drink stained best clothes is beyond me. Also, the addition of crafts--messy ones including markers, glue, glitter, etc. Here is Rhett's reaction: 1. Doesn't care about craft 2. Does care about making a huge mess all over the room, table and his dress clothes 3. Mommy ends up doing craft so we have something to take up the 15 minute allotted time with Rhett on her glitter strewn lap. I never buy dress clothes that aren't washable and the boys usually end up wearing them all day so I don't think I qualify as a super freaky clean mother. What is wrong with singing and stories?? Why can't we wait on the messy snacks and crafts until the kids can wash their own hands??

Greg and I went out on the town tonight for dinner. We considered all our favorites, but weren't hungry enough or in the right location so we went back to Brio. Last time we went we thought it was good, but nothing great. It is usually packed and we figured a Tuesday evening should allow us to be seated right away. We were right and as we were being seated the waiter asked us, "Have you eaten here before?". I know that might sound benign to most, but that is one of my biggest pet peeves (OK, maybe not a big one) because it is a silly question. It doesn't matter what my answer is because that will be the end of the conversation except in the insane instance that I say "no" and the waiter will proceed to explain to me how to eat in a restaurant. This may seem petty with no background, so let's go back in time....circa 2000...restaurant: Bahama Breeze...at Bahama Breeze they were ABOVE normal restaurants and didn't employ waitstaff, they employed "tour guides" who would take you on a magical tour of their main attraction--the 100 page menu. They would come to the table and ask if you had ever eaten there before. If you said "yes" you were saved the 20 minute presentation. If you said "no" then sit down my friend you are about to go on a very long journey down through the appetizers, up the mountain of salads, over the river of drinks, under the main courses and DON'T even ask about dessert. It was so condesending that you felt like they thought they had invented the concept of a restaurant and you would need a tour guide to make it through. It makes me wonder why all the Bahama Breeze locations near me are now closed...hmmmmmm. Anyway, if you really wanted to get on someone's bad side you would go with them and then say "no" because they had a policy that even if everyone else at the table had previously "traveled" with them, they were not going to leave anyone behind. This experience made me very sensitive to the issue so when we started to eat at SaltGrass several years later this sensitive issue again appeared. At SaltGrass they ask you if you have been there before and if you say "no" you have a lesson on cuts of meat. The amazing part of this lecture is that they actually have visual aides on the table showing the cow cut up in different ways (yum). Obviously, they invented meat and need to educate the world. As a prior Vegetarian I might suggest showing cut up cows on a display in the middle of the table might not be the best conversion factor. So back to Brio, I hesitated and then hurriedly said "yes, we eat here all the time" because I was not ready for whatever sermon this waiter was preaching and really, do you need to convert me if I am already sitting at your table?