Adventures in Orange Soda

"I want that one." he said, pointing to the orange Fanta.

"Are you sure?" I asked him. "It has carbonation. It'll be fizzy."

"Yes, yes. I'm sure." he told me. "I want that one."

So I filled his cup.

He bent forward, wrapped his lips around the straw, and sucked down his first big sip.

Completely startled, with eyes as wide as saucers, he shot straight up in his chair.

"It tastes like it has SPARKLES in it!!"

Tentatively, he took another sip.

He sat up again, eyebrows knit in deep concentration.

"It tastes like it has little BALLS in it!!"

He went in again.

And again.

And one more time for good measure.

Then a shiver passed through his entire body as he pushed his orange Fanta across the table to me.

"It's yucky."

Important reading

I don't post a lot of political things on this blog, but if you click right here you can cruise on over to "A Mommy Story" where she has written a fantastic letter to the candidates. Whatever your political affiliation, I highly encourage you to read it.

On a side note, but still somewhat related to politics, if you've called our house recently, you may already know that Gibson LOVES to answer the phone. So when we got a call the other night, you know he dashed right over and picked it up.
Here's the conversation that followed:
Gibson: Hello? (Pause) Uh-huh. (Long pause as he listens for a while.) OK. (Pause) Bye. (Hangs up and walks into the family room.)
Mike: Who was that?
Gibson: Barrack Obama.
Mike: Uh.....Barrack Obama? Well, What did he say?
Gibson: He wants us to watch him on TV tonight.

Porky Pine Cones, No Stress Recipes, and Crooked Teeth

Last week was Gibson's spring break week. We went to the mountains for a little camping and some good quality R & R, and had an absolutely fantastic time hiking waterfalls, roasting s'mores, having cookouts, and laying in the hammock. (Not all at the same time, of course.) But now that we're back, I'm in a bit of a slump on the blog here. It's not that I don't have things to write....... I'm just not that motivated to write it. However, since my good friend, Janice, left me a tiny plea the other day ("Where oh where is Rachel? I miss her blog.") I thought I would try to accommodate.



So, in the spirit of punctual blogging I'll share some spring break highlights with you. (**Disclaimer. To any of you licking your chops over the mention of spring break highlights, please let me inform you that these may not be the kind of "spring break highlights" you're hoping for. No gratuitous boobie-flashing, or raunchy drunken party antics were happening at our campsite. And unfortunately for you, the folks at site 113 wouldn't let me bring my camera.)

Highlight #1
While hiking to a waterfall, Mike picks up a small pine cone and hands it to Landis. (Landis being the kid who finds the beauty in all things "ordinary", like small grey rocks and dead leaves.) Anytime we hike, he will spend inordinate amounts of time scouring the grounds to find the perfect treasures to carry around with him for the day. Actually, let me rephrase that, because what I really meant there was that he will spend inordinate amounts of time finding the perfect treasures for ME to carry around for the day.
Mike: (Handing the pine cone to Landis.) Here, Landis. Look what I found.
Gibson: (Excitedly) Oooooooooooo! Landis! That's a porcupine! (Long pause...........) I know what it does! It PORKS ya!
Rachel: (Falls down laughing.)
Gibson: (Looks confused.)
Now that I re-read that, maybe it was more hilarious if you were standing there when he said it, because what made it so dang funny was that he meant it. And he was extremely proud of the depths of his seemingly endless, and scarily accurate, environmental knowledge. After all, if you're not careful about how you hold it, it will pork ya. And I don't know about you, but I'm not at all interested in being porked by a pine cone.

Highlight #2
Dancing around our campsite, the boys start sing "Hakuna Matata" -- you know, from the Lion King? (It's been the movie of choice lately.) In their minds, the song goes like this:

Hakuna Matata....... Aint no passin' craze
It means no worries, for your recipes.....
It's our problem free, phisosophey....
HAKUNA MATATA!

Which completely cracked me up, because I happen to know that the song lyrics don't really have anything to do with low-stress recipes. And also that they have no idea what the word philosophy is. It took me right back to the time when I thought Jimmy Buffet was wandering around Margaritaville looking for his "chiggerin' saw".

Highlight #3
And perhaps the most exciting highlight of the week.......drum roll please........... Gibson lost his first tooth! (Mah Baby! Isn't he way to little for this sort of thing?!) We couldn't believe it because we hadn't even known it was loose, but the G-man could not have been more proud of himself. Of course, judging by the way his permanent tooth is coming in, the poor kid is going to have some serious orthodontics happening in his future. Though I can't say I'm all that surprised..... between Mike and his adolescent head-gear, and me and my non-stop expanders and braces, the kid didn't have a chance.

So this is what they mean when they say "I'd rather have a root canal"......

I had a root canal yesterday. (Inflamed nerve tissue, maybe some deterioration, extreme sensitivity, blah, blah, blah......) And all things considered, it went pretty well. I mean, I suppose it was as pleasant as a root canal can be. And even though the dentist gave me a prescription for Vicoden, I felt so good that I didn't get it filled. But let me tell you, I should've. Because at 5:30 this morning, that root canal started KICKING MY ASS.

I took 600 milligrams of ibuprofen and that hasn't even touched it. It hasn't even touched it! So I had to get up....... Occupy myself somehow. Because writhing around in the bed going "ohmygodmytooth!!!!!ohmygodmytooth!!!!ohmygodmytooth!!! just wasn't cutting it either.

I'm dying to get my prescription filled, but the pharmacy doesn't open until 8:00. Holy crap. I hope I make it that long because next I'm going to take a hammer to the side of my head.

(*Edited to add: I'm doing much better now, thank you. Drugs. Good Stuff. Who knew?)

Has anyone seen my socks?

As is the story of my life, I spent a good deal of yesterday afternoon folding laundry. For some reason, my laundry baskets are like magic buckets...... No matter how much you take out of them they are constantly full to overflowing. (Hmmmmmmmmm......... the term "Magic Buckets" seems like a little too much fun. Perhaps a better description would be that of ocean faring boats taking on water from a giant leak, while also in the midst of a thunderstorm. I bail and I bail and I bail and I bail, but they keep filling up! And at a pace I can barely keep up with!! Mayday!! Mayday!! Mayday!!!) Oh...... excuse me........ Have I drifted off? Let me get back to my original point.

My afternoon yesterday was a lot like my afternoons every day:
#1 - Pick up Gibson from school.
#2 - Fold as much of the non-stop barrage of laundry as I possibly can in an hour.
#3 - Go make dinner.

So imagine my surprise when, after I'd spent a full 45 minutes preparing dinner, I discovered that I'd been holding 10 mis-matched socks under my arm the entire time. And folks, I didn't just slide a frozen pizza in the oven. I chopped and diced. Sauteed and simmered. Stirred and seasoned. I cooked. And apparently I did it all with one arm tucked neatly into my side so as not to drop the gaggle of mate-less socks I'd been so carefully tending. I'd moved onto a completely different task when I happened to notice some fabric coming out from my armpit. "Wha......? What the heck is that?!"

And then it hit me. This is why it's so easy to look around in a crowd and spot those of us who are parents. Because regardless of where we are or what we're doing, we'll be the ones who are BLISSFULLY AND COMPLETELY UNAWARE OF ALL THE CRAP WE ARE HOLDING.