Oh, Friday, I've been missing you since Monday. Glad to see you back around these parts.
You know those glow necklaces that you see at all kinds of carnivals, festivals, and concerts? The kind you snap together and the kind kids just love?
I loathe them.
Maybe it's just our family, but we always seem to get the duds. The ones that won't glow, the ones missing the little connector thingy to make them into bracelets and necklaces, and the ones that crack open.
Last night, after a lip sync show at the school, the three bigger kids came home with glow jewelry. I just gritted my teeth because I knew someone was going to get disappointed.
Sure enough, Sally took hers upstairs to her room and five minutes later Francie came down to inform us that their room was glowing. Not good.
Sally's bracelet had cracked open in her bed, and when we got up there, the whole bed looked like a scene from CSI after they use the Luminol. Little glowing drops, streaks, and handprints everywhere.
Rob took Sally to clean up while I had fun stripping the bed at 9 pm. We sent a non-luminescent Sally to bed, crying because we made her throw her bracelet away.
Just mark this down as reason #27 why I'll never be invited to a rave.
I have been craving strawberries in the worst way for this entire pregnancy. I would seriously sit and power my way through bowls of strawberries if I could.
So today, when I was at the fancy grocery store (read: expensive and too far from our house, but with more fresh-looking produce) with the littles and I saw some decent looking strawberries for sale, I decided to ignore the price and buy them. After all, we didn't really need those diapers and other stuff on my list, right?
It didn't help that I was shopping with the three children who love strawberries as much as their mother. A fervent cry of STRAWBERRIES! went up from the back of the cart, and even Mopsy, who only says two words, patted my arm and said "Mom! Mom! Mom!" as she stared at the fruit. Bless her little heart.
Well, those supermarket managers aren't stupid. Right next to the strawberries were angel food cakes fresh from the bakery. For a dollar. Come on, people. What else was I supposed to do? I threw that sucker right in the cart and the cry of CAKE! went up from the back.
Funnily enough, Cool Whip was also on sale. Imagine that. (And yes, I know I can make whipped cream that is SO MUCH BETTER than Cool Whip, but sometimes I really like the taste of Cool Whip. Don't judge me.)
After lunch, I polished off a bowl of faux strawberry shortcake and my only thought was that I really should have used a bigger bowl.
Moral of the story: Go grocery shopping with a pregnant woman. You will eat like kings.
Speaking of the fancy grocery store, I have found that I get much more easily annoyed there than at the tiny grocery store near my house.
There are so many varieties of everything that I end up spending too much time dithering over what I should buy. When you are at the store with three kids age four and younger, and a bladder that is on a strict ten minute timer, dithering is a luxury you can't afford.
Also, the things that the store management provide as courtesies often get abused and it makes me nuts. For instance, the parking spaces set aside near the front of the store for pregnant women/families with very small children.
There are about six spots out of the huge parking lot that are designated as such, and I have to admit that I do appreciate them when they are available. It takes me a long time to buckle and unbuckle the smaller kids and get them situated, especially the larger I get.
It really toasts me when, as I'm parked in one of these spots and trying to get my kids safely in and then put the groceries in, I look up and see a little two seater sports car waiting for the spot. Usually the car holds a woman my mother's age who is often wearing workout/tennis clothing.
She pulls in as soon as I get my huge van out.
I realize these spots are courtesies. They are not like handicapped parking spots, and I am certainly fortunate to be young and healthy with similarly hearty children. I do not NEED to park there. I would gladly give a "mother's spot" to an elderly person or a person with a handicapped placard should the need arise.
But I am not Christian enough to let it go when a healthy person with no children swings into the spot, pops out of their car, and jogs into the store. Grr.
Moral of the story: Avoid the near occasion of sin and shop at the local grocery store.
Thank God Lent is right around the corner. Maybe I'll give up parking in those spots.
Let's switch gears before this whole post becomes a complaint.
I have been enjoying the album 21 by Adele tremendously. I don't know exactly how I heard of her, but I've loved her music since her first album, 19 (also very good).
Adele's voice is amazing, and the album is full of cool retro-sounding, brass-heavy songs. It's great for riding around in the car. Or cleaning the kitchen. Or doing laundry. Or having dinner alone with your hubby.
Not that I would know much about that last one, but that's what I imagine music at a grown-up restaurant would sound like.
From the TMI file:
My kids love ice cream sandwiches, but Fiver and Sally are especially messy when they eat them.
Last night, after an ice cream sandwich dessert, we sent Fiver into the bathroom to wash his hands and face.
I went into the bathroom about half an hour later, completely forgetting that Fiver had been the last one in there, and all I saw were the faucets, sink top, hand towels, and even mirror streaked with brown.
I did NOT automatically assume it was chocolate. And that right there should tell you something about life with small children.
I DID manage to remember that Fiver had washed all the chocolate off in that bathroom before I put on a hazmat suit, but not before I had a serious wig out.
I've been reading a novel set in a wealthy family in Victorian England, and I think that we should really have tea time here. Everything about it sounds perfectly lovely -- cup of tea, scones, biscuits, jam, little cakes, finger sandwiches. Heavenly.
The only flaw in my plan is that I don't have Cook below stairs in the kitchen making it all for me. And I don't have a lady's maid to bring it to my room on a tray while the children are resting in the Nursery with Nanny.
I'd rather have coffee anyway.
Thanks for all your kind comments on my last post, my friends. They were a balm to me.
Usually I'd send you over to Conversion Diary for more Quick Takes, but this week they are being hosted by Betty Beguiles. So head over there -- and have a wonderful weekend!