hairbrained schemes

Is Hypochondria Genetic?

Gorgeous George and I had a date last Monday.

We made it over 2 weeks ago, to go look at kitchens, appliances, etc for the new house. 

Sunday evening Jake had a slightly runny nose and a bit of a cough.

Monday morning he had the same, but he also had the weight of the world on his shoulders, dragging his skinny little body around the house moaning.

So we had a choice.

Force him to go to school or drag him with us.

We finally decided that we didn't want to chance sending him to school if he was indeed sick.  So we set up a little bed in the backseat, grabbed his gameboy, some books and a couple of movies.

The first sign should have been the big smile and skip in his step on the way to the truck.

He was a good boy all day.  Didn't complain one iota.  However, from the moment the first movie started I also did not hear one moan or a single cough. 

Curious.

So Tuesday morning, when Jacob dragged himself down the hallway and onto the couch, I was immediately suspicious.

You see, I was that kid back in the day.

The slightest tickle in my throat.

The mere hint of a snotty nose.

The very suggestion of a fever and I was pleading my case to my mom that I was surely on my deathbed.

My mom was a lot nicer than I am.

She usually fell for it.

In fact, I remember one time I played sick for about 3 days and she finally called my bluff and hauled me into the doctor.

The nurse stuck a thermometer in my mouth and left the room giving me just enough time to try and heat the thermometer on the lightbulb next to me causing it to break.

I then was forced to lie to the nurse when she came back claiming that in my weakened state I grew dizzy and dropped the thermometer.  (If I had of been aware of a little thing called mercury poisoning I probably would have gone down that road too.)

In the end Jacob went to school.

I did give him the choice, school or back to bed for the entire day, no tv, no video games, no books, just sleep. 

Not much of a choice at all, really. 

I'm happy to report he had a lovely day and confided to me last night that school was probably just what he needed to get over his illness.

Go figure.

Is it bad?

Is it a bad thing that this is the list of what I've done today:

• scrapbooked

• caught up on emails
• put one load (halfheartedly) in the wash

And in the background the "My Super Sweet Sixteen" marathon is playing. 

My Deep Thought of the Day?

I wonder how the people that have to deal with these "Super Sweet Sixteens" keep smiling. 

Seriously.

The "C" Word.

I am a potty mouth.

Yup, you heard it here first.

Since I've had kids I try (I know it might not seem like it at times) to curb it, at least while they are in the room.

So imagine my shock and utter panic when a few months ago Lucas nonchalantly mentioned,

"I know the "c" word".

Immediately, my brain went through a rewind of the last 5 years. 

I couldn't have...

No.

I'm sure I didn't...

Maybe?...No.

So I called him over and asked casually (because you're not supposed to make a big deal, right?  If you make a big deal they will for sure be dropping the word at every opportunity.  I'm sure I read that in a parenting magazine once.) "Um, so buddy, what is the "c" word?" 

He shook his head.

"It's too bad to say"

(Oh great.)

"Whisper it in my ear, bud."

"Okay (leans in really close) purses his little lips and says...

"Crap."

The wave of relief that washed over me was immense.

Of course, we don't allow the boys to say THAT "c" word either, but I have to say it sounded pretty sweet considering the alternative.

__________________

So we went into the ground yesterday.

That's just fancy talk for we had the excavator guy come dig the hole for our basement.

We're about 6 weeks behind schedule and I'm pretty sure I've never been this excited about a hole before.

It's a good lookin' hole as far as holes go.  And the best part was that we didn't hit a lot of rock, which means the excavating cost will be less than we imagined. 

Excellent.

We also went down and figured out windows today.  The window dude counted them up and the grand total is 53. 

Ridiculous, eh?

The funny part is, Gorgeous George (aka Daddy Warbucks since we sold the house) who has been on a spending frenzy lately started budgeting the moment the window dude mentioned the number of windows in the house. 

He didn't even have to say a word. 

I could see it in his eyes.

This is going to be a long few months. 

Are My Pants on Fire?

Is it hypocritical to expect your children to be truthful and guileless at all times?

I think not.

However, sometimes you have to remember stuff like that before you open your largish mouth.

There is a really cool big winery at the top of a hill near where we live.  From the street below it kind of looks "castle-ish".  A couple of years ago we were driving by and they asked me what that big building was and before I even thought about it I replied, "That's where the King and Queen of Kelowna live". 

As most lies do, this soon spiraled into an elaborate story about Queen Wilhemena and King Al and every time we drove by I was ensnared deeper and deeper into my web of deceit.

Not too long ago the boys requested a visit to the castle to meet the members of the Okanagan Royal Family and I laughed and said, "that's not REALLY a castle, it's a winery".

I honestly thought they would see the humour in it.

They did not.

Today we were driving by the winery, Jacob commented on it.  Then did a small doubletake and out of the corner of his mouth to Lucas said scornfully, "Remember when mom LIED and made up all that STUFF and TRICKED us?"

I then had the pleasure of listening to my 6 year old lecture me on the merits of truth telling and how lies can hurt people and get you in a lot of trouble (from the sound of it, he is speaking from experience).

At the end of his diatribe, he leaned forward in his booster seat and said, with extreme earnestness, "I really hope you learned a lesson from this and make good choices next time."

I doubt it.

I just wanted to share a picture of my truthful and daring little boy.  Jason and Luke went skiing on the weekend and according to Lucas (and I'm sure he wouldn't exaggerate) he was AWETHOME!

 

That is some phat air, little man.

Wax on. Wax off.

You have got to love a good cheesy 80's movie.

Especially one starring Ralph Macchio wearing a headband.

J came home with The Karate Kid yesterday afternoon and we watched it with the boys last night. 

Lucas and I cheered outloud at the end when Daniel pulled out the Crane and hammered the "bad guy" in the chops.

Here are a few things we learned from the Karate Kid:

1. In the 80's bad guys were always rich and always had blonde hair (sometimes held back with a stylish headband)
2. Bad guys always drive motorcycles and/or expensive cars (usually corvettes or cameros)
3. They always have a posse, but then I think they referred to them as a "gang".  This gang is always made up other other blonde guys who are not as rich and not quite as mean.
4. If Lucas ever is hanging out with a group of guys and they start "acting bad" and/or "bullying" he is not going to do it.  He is going to tell the guys to STOP because bullying is mean.
5. We may have a short window of opportunity to take of advantage of the fact that if it's on tv Lucas believes it to be the truth.  After watching this movie, we may be able to get Lucas to paint our fence, sand our floors and wash and wax our vehicles with the impression that this work will make him a karate expert. 
6. Sadly, we have missed that same window of opportunity with Jacob.
7. The good guy usually has a single parent who tries really hard but doesn't entirely "get it" (see: Pretty in Pink) 
8. 80's fashion was bad.
9. It's okay for a 15 year old boy to be spending the majority of his time alone with and accepting expensive presents from a much older man.
10. The good guy always triumphs over the headband wearing, sportcar driving, much bigger and tougher bully.

And that's okay.

I like a happy ending. 

Give me the Karate Kid over the Titanic anyday.

Ringing in 2007.

Happy New Year!

We had a lovely New Year's eve, brought in with great friends, excellent food and a little too much of the sauce (my headache will attest).

We stayed up until 2am.  The boys were slightly disappointed because last year we stayed up until 3:30 am and they had made it their resolution to beat that (yes, we are up for the Parents of the Year award, most definitely).

A few pictures from the event:

Me and Gorgeous George.  Notice the matchy shirts? (I swear it wasn't planned).

Jake and some of his pool playing buds. 

Apparently the peace sign/rock'n'roll hands thing is an epidemic in the 6-10 crowd.

Apparently Lucas is quite the ladies man.  We had our suspicions confirmed last night.  Next time I am bringing his robe and ascot. 

Gorgeous George is insisting that we go sledding right now.  I'm not sure that is the correct way to spend New Year's day, but he is slowly wearing me down.

(btw, the new banner I made was done with one of Tia Bennett's digital kits.  Isn't that frame cool?!)