The Queen B

Here We Go

The weekend has finally arrived.

The Princess can hardly contain herself.

Saturday morning, we are heading to The Hannah Montana Concert Event.

Oh my word.

What were we thinking?

Is there anyway to anticipate the squealing pitch of thousands of tweens?

Did you see her on Oprah last week?

Did you hear the squeals?

Will my nerves be able to handle the madness?

Will Billy Ray be there?

Must I stand the entire time?

What does a parent wear to such an event?

What if (by accident, of course) I sing along?

What if The King sings along?

What if The King is on his Crackberry during the concert?

How many possible ways are there to embarrass The Princess?
The King will most likely find them all.
On purpose.

What if we sold the tickets to fund the college education of The Princess?

Wish us luck.

Labels: the princess

The Internal Clock of a Princess

There are a few things in our week that never change. Church is on Sunday. Thursday is Trash Day. We must leave the house by 7:23 on school mornings to make it there on time.

For two years it has been 7:23.

Two years.

Yesterday morning at 7:15, The Princess sat on my bed, fully dressed, eating a pop-tart and staring into space. She asked The King if he thought she was going to be ready on time since we usually (usually?) leave at 7:23. She wondered if we would be leaving at 7:23 today.

What?!?

I mean, all she had left to do was brush her teeth, brush her hair, put on her shoes and coat, gather her belongings and get out the door.

A portion of those precious 8 minutes were spent in her bathroom.

Her upstairs bathroom.

I am downstairs packing her lunch, checking her backpack, writing her teacher a note and, you know, blogging.

She begins screaming, “Mom, you’ve got to come up here. Hurry! Mom! I need you. Quick, Mom!”

I take the stairs two at a time putting my life at risk.

“What is it, Princess?”

“Can you go into your bathroom and get my hairbrush for me?”

Isn’t it CUTE how time has no meaning to a 10-year-old?

Labels: the princess

You Asked For It

Well really, you didn't ask.

Kelly tagged me with the Seven Random Things meme. Since I am totally out of other blogging ideas, I think today is a great day to play!!

Let me apologize in advance for boring you with things that you never cared to know.

1. We had a pet pig in our house when I was in high school. Really, it was my mom's. Really, I totally hated him. His name was Hamlet. We had to get Hamlet a pet cat because he was lonely. The cat got struck by lightening. Hamlet found the poor cat. He freaked and never recovered. The pig psychiatrist suggested we put him on a plane and send him to his momma. (We really didn't have a pig psychiatrist...that is just what we called the lady we got him from...) His brothers/sisters were the pigs that lived with George Clooney. Doesn't that mean I'm, like, George Clooney's step-sister or something?

2. I always wanted a Pepsi machine and a Snoopy Snow Cone machine for Christmas and I never got either of them.

3. I have a huge 28-year-old scar on my foot where Brent Michael W. ran over it with a Big Wheels.

4. When I married The King, he had to show me how to brown ground beef.

5. Ok. This borders on really nasty (or maybe walks right over it). When The Princess was itsy bitsy, she was in bed with us so that I could get some sleep. Her umbilical cord thing came off in the middle of the night and I tossed it toward my nightstand where all of the baby equipment was stationed. I had completely forgotten about it by the next morning because of the sleep deprivation. So...we were moving to a new house, like, 2 years later and while I was packing...guess what I found? After 2 years of keeping her gross little umbilical stub, I kind of felt bad to throw it away. So I put it in a baggie. And I still have it. It is in a box in the attic because I hope to never look at it again.

Assuming you are still reading...

6. This may be the most evil sentence ever written on a parenting blog: I detest the book Love You Forever. I think it is the most bizarre thing I've ever read. It kind of creeps me out. The 60-year-old mom is climbing in the window to get a look at her son? Um, can you say Stalker? I could never even finish it for the fits of laughter. I'm sorry. Don't send me mean comments. It is a flaw in my personality, or DNA or something. Blame my mother (who has never climbed in my window).

7. I don't like to eat meat very much, but I love hot dogs at a movie theater or ballpark. I know what they are made of...

Whew. I hope that wasn't too painful.

I think I am supposed to tag people, but I am new at this whole blogging thing and don't know many of you! I will throw out a few names of those I'd like to know more about! Don't feel obligated...

I'll start with Amy...she's been my friend for so long that she is obligated to play. A few more...Jeni, Lisa, The Fritz Facts and Laura. Really girls, no pressure. At all.

Anyone else that wants to play--join in!!

Labels: blogging, mindless rambling

Me vs. Mr. Scary

The King, Princess and I had to run to The King's place of business late the other night. He needed to pick up something he had forgotten, so he pulled to the back of the building and dashed inside.

He left the car running so that The Princess could continue watching her movie. You know it is considered child abuse in this day and age to not allow your children to watch ANIMATION at every possible moment.

Anyway, I am sitting in the passenger seat enjoying my moments of quiet (we have shared the news with The Princess that car televisions do not work without headphones), when I see something out of the corner of my eye. THERE IS A MAN STANDING AT MY WINDOW. He is, like, 10 inches from my face STANDING AT MY WINDOW.

I seriously could not catch my breath. All of those skills that I am certain will kick in when necessary DON'T KICK IN.

He walked around to The Princess and stood at her window. Ok...now those skills are kickin' in. I kind of waved him to the driver's window and stare him down while I pick up my phone and dial The King.

Oh goodie.

The King's phone lights up and starts ringing in the driver's seat.

Sidebar: The King is never without his phone. I wake up in the night to find him texting or checking messages. If a customer emails a problem at 3 a.m., by golly, we handle that problem at 3 a.m. (He really has excellent customer service skills.)

So, Mr. Scary and I are both staring at the bright ringing phone in the driver's seat. I'm waaaay to smart for him, though. I start talking into my phone like I've got 911 on the line.

About that time, The King makes his appearance. Hallelujah. He asks Mr. Scary what he needs. Apparently, Mr. Scary really needed $0.81. I think it is safe to say that Mr. Scary had a few too many that night.

Lessons learned: Always keep your doors locked and feel free to dial The King at any hour of the night.

Labels: mindless rambling

If I'd Wanted a Sauna, I'd Have Gone to a Sauna

Can anyone tell me one good reason why A GYM would have their thermostat set at *82 degrees?

If I recover from my heat stroke, I will blog tomorrow.

*This would be an actual temperature of 82 degrees. I saw it with my own two eyes right before they rolled back in my head.

Labels: exercise and torture

Baby Steps

Ok. I get it. Small steps lead to clean cabinets.

I followed your advice and tackled a little...which led to a little more.

I cleaned out one entire cabinet. ONE ENTIRE CABINET!! Which then led to:

a clean china cabinet
a clean entertainment center
two clean chest of drawers
four clean random cabinets
and...I organized all my DVDs and CDs and put them in a holder-thing.

But NO playroom!

See the improvement?

Before

After

I couldn't quite make it to the cabinet on the other side. Waaayyy to much stuff over there.

I did, however, balance the twin cabinets by adding a bunny to the cabinet on your left (tall, gold and turned sideways on the top shelf).

I'm sorry to confess that I felt compelled to keep the green and pink cups. I even added some orange ones to my collection. I found those in the very back. You just never know when I might need to serve 27 people in neon cups.

The King carried 3 boxes to the attic (which apparently required a little bit of huffing and sighing). I filled 3 trash bags. I have a pile started for Goodwill.

Thanks for the advice.

I am much happier.

Labels: mindless rambling

Out of the Cabinet and Into the Dumpster

I really don't like it when I get this way.

I think I might have OCD. I am a neat freak, though I see no shame in that.

The predicament that this disorder has currently placed me in is this: I cannot go another day without tackling the storage cabinets in my dining room.

It has been building. I could see it coming. The holidays are officially here and I have to deal with the items in that cabinet. Serving pieces, wrapping paraphernalia, gifts I hid 3 years ago...you know.

Our house has been for sale for the past 6 months. I had planned on having a serious purging festival while I was packing. But, our house didn't sell. It is off of the market. I'm good with that. I really love our home. The grass was just greener on the other side for a little while.

So, now...I've got to deal with those cabinets.

Look.

Really look. Closely. Enlarge it.

Those cabinets are waaaaay deeper than they look.

Do I really need 72 vases from the flower shop? Is it necessary that I save each plastic container in which someone packages Christmas cookies? Yes, that is an Easter bunny on the second shelf down. What about the leaning tower of pink and green cups? Did you notice the big fuzzy black spider on the top shelf?

If you are looking for something to do today, print that picture and play I Spy with your kids.

I mean, what do you do with this stuff? I can't throw it away. I refuse to have a garage sale. My mother will not take it. I shudder to think of the online auction of a set of 1970s flower child dishes. I still kind of love them.

Do I box it in the attic? I'll still know it's there. It will haunt me from the attic.

What if I need one single blue glass plate someday?

You know it won't stop with the dining room cabinets. Those cabinets will lead to the kitchen cabinets. Then the pantry. That might lead to the playroom. I just can't handle the playroom right now. Anything but the playroom.

Maybe I should just dive in. I will feel better about life as I know it.

Until I go into the garage.

I just picked up a new magazine that looks as if it might be helpful. Maybe I'll go take a bubble bath and read for inspiration.

How do you motivate yourself to do those necessary things which you dread?

This is not a rhetorical question. I am really looking for help here people.

Labels: mindless rambling

The Princess and Her Castle

The Princess has had a school assignment looming over me, I mean her, for a month.

She is supposed to build a castle for Medieval Day at her school.

There are really no rules to follow...just create the castle of her choice.

Her grandfather helped her design this masterpiece on Thanksgiving Day.

This would definitely be her choice of castle !!

Labels: the princess

I Do Believe We Did It

Can I hear a Woo Pig Sooie, please??

Labels: gimme an H

The Red Loveseat Had a Great Fall

I've been waiting for the happy ending.

The Palace has been in need...ok, in want of a new couch and loveseat. Ours is 8 years old and has endured a growing child and cats. The occassional puking cats. Sorry. You just need to have all the particulars.

The King has finally given the decree that I can purchase the furniture. The only stipulation is that I need to sell both gently used pieces to compensate for one of the new pieces.

The new couch is chosen. Two chairs are selected to replace the loveseat. Deposit is paid. Furniture is ordered. Four to six weeks of patience begins. Oh, and I need to sell that stuff.

I find a buyer. She wants both items. I have followed The King's orders. Good for me.

So, The King offers...ok, I make The King deliver the pieces less than a mile to the buyer. He is provided with two strapping young high school football players. (They even say, "No, Sir" and things like that.) They hoist the couch into the back of The King's truck. Then, in an act of complete lunacy, The King begins to lift the loveseat into the truck to place on top of the couch.

What? Has he lost his royal mind? Even the strapping young men politely question his methods. He, of course, has a gadget that he says will hold it all together. He places the loveseat upside down and on top of the couch. Then he uses these man-gadget-strap-things to cinch it down.

I asked him not to act so quickly. I did. I asked. I begged he reconsider this maddening technique. I did. I begged.

To no avail. They loaded and off they went. Less than one mile away.

The King returns home without the strapping young men. He hands me a check for...what? Half my proceeds? What?

I ask The King where the remaining portion of my earnings might be.

He dumped the loveseat in the middle of the road. Yep. Turned a corner and off it went. Flew out of the truck. In. The. Road.

I'm not certain, but I am pretty sure that the strapping young men were devastated.

I quickly point out that I cannot be held responsible for remuneration. I don't have a job. I have already ordered the new stuff. I asked him to not strap. I begged, if you recall.

To his credit, The King said it was ok. (Well, yeah. He dumped it.)

I have inappropriately brought the episode to his attention, oh, 67 times give or take. Today, however, I am ready to leave the past where it belongs...

The new furniture has arrived!!

The King will be going, um, to pick it up later today...

Labels: all the king's men