When I was your age.......

I love Facebook. It's my friend. I'm completely addicted to farmville - to the point where Bean says that he's a Farm-Widower. (I say he's a drama-king.) Anyway. But what kind of drives me a little insane is all the 15-17 year old kids on there becoming fans of ANYTHING that begins with the phrases "When I was your age" or "When I was a kid". Because really?? They ARE that age. They ARE kids. One of my "friends" is a 17 girl who I love to pieces, but she became a fan of "When I was your age we had to blow on video games to make them work".


Really??

She was born in what '93?? There was no blowing on video games in '93. I don't deny the funny of the group or page or whatever it is, but not for a 17 year old..

Or how about this one:

"When I was your age Pluto was a Planet."

umm yeah. It got all demoted WHILE you were still in school dobie.

Nevermind. I love high school kids, the amuse the crap out of me. They think they are so cool, and hey, they are. Plus they have the cutest clothes (that they so should not be wearing), and they are awesome babysitters, and they make me feel young again, but really, they are not 30. ANd that would be the problem.

My Poor Phone

I have this crazy cool new phone. I mean really it's awesome. You wouldn't believe how cool it is - it's way cooler than I am, I'm pretty sure that it was probably bummed when I bought it because it should belong to someone much cooler than I am.

And I love my phone, but it has a tendancy to not do things that I want it to do, like ring. And sometimes the alarm doesn't go off. I think that it's in protest for me being so very uncool and owning such a very cool phone.

So tonight I was determined to play with the alarm long enough to figure out why it wouldn't go off. So I set it for 8:00. And it didn't go off. Then I set it for 8:05, but I was talking on the phone at 8:05, so that one didn't count, so I set it for 8:10. Didn't go off. So I looked at all the settings and messed with them and the volume and all that good stuff, and then set it for 8:15. No luck. 8:20. Nothing.

Do you have any idea how much it helps when you turn the alarm on??

Major Fail

I think that most people are by their very nature, selfish. And I am no exception.

For the most part I try very hard to make myself rise above this nature. I care for my children, and occassionally I play Barbies with Tallulah, and look at Pokemon cards with Oliver. I talk about various people with "J" names with Miley when I'd rather be taking a nap. And I talk about church gossip and hot Irish guys with Ovalia* when I have a migraine. But this time, I screwed up, I mean not just a little, but there is a big fat, huge marked FAIL stamped on my forehead.

One of my closest friends Cara has been wading through a big load of poo for a while now, and I had been doing my best to walk on the sidewalk next to her (because you know it's not really possible to get down in the poo with someone) so she wouldn't feel quite so lonely. But since I go married (a little over a month ago) I've been busy adjusting, and I just haven't had as much time for friends. So while I have tried to call, I just haven't as much.

So I hurt her feelings, naturally.

And I feel like poo. Naturally.

*This is not to say that I don't like talking about various people whose names start with "J", church gossip, or hot Irish guys - because I actually love it, just not when I want to take a nap or have a migraine.

No Art for Oliver

Oliver is my budding artist. Not to say that Tallulah isn't artistic, she is, she just isn't as focused on it as Oliver is. But sadly there will be no art for Oliver in middle school.

We went to the information meeting tonight at his new school. I had him pretty convinced that he could take private lessons on french horn through middle school and take art classes in actual school then when he could take two fine arts in intermediate or high school he could pick up band. And then they told him he'd have to take technology with art - which I thought would be pretty cool. But he wasn't too thrilled.

score 1 - Band

Then the band presentation happened and they said they would NOT get to choose their instruments, they would be placed.

score 1 - Art

But now he's looking at me with big blue eyes confused, not sure what path to take, and I couldn't pull the "Mom knows best". So I said we would go talk to the band director after the presentation and if Oliver playing french horn was a problem, we'd stick to the original plan, and if it wasn't then we'd do band.

So after the presentation we made our way over to the band director talked to him:

Me: Hi Mr. Band Director. I'm Oliver's Mom. This is Oliver. Oliver is having a little trouble deciding between Band & Art.

Mr. Band Director: Why?!?!? (because you know all band directors think band is THE BOMB!!)

Me: Well, when we talked about the different instruments we talked about the ones that I could tolerate, because you know some of them sound horrendous when you're first learning.

Mr. Band Director did an unintentional nod before he could help himself. (which you know he's really not supposed to do - he's supposed to love ALL the instruments in ALL phases of learning - even trumpets.)

Me: And he's chosen french horn, which is what I played, but I didn't tell him he had to play french horn.*

Mr. Band Director: REALLY?!?!?!?!? We need french horn players, we love french horn players (he now looks at Oliver for the first time), and I don't see a problem right off with him playing horn.......

Me: I already have a private teacher lined up for him, and I have a horn...

Mr. Band Director kind of shuddered a little.

Mr. Band Director: So what's the problem?!?!

Me: Well, he's not sure he wants to be in band if he can't play horn.

Mr. Band Director: I'm 95% sure that he can play french horn, I mean it's not totally up to me, so I don't want to say for 100%, but 95% sure.

Score
Band - 2
Art - 1


Band wins.

*I'd also like to take this opportunity to voice something that I haven't voiced anywhere else. I am absolutely freakin thrilled that MY boy has CHOSEN to play french horn. I really did not influence him in any way other than being completely fabulous.
But since he naturally wants to be like his fantastic mother, I am on top of the world. It makes me want to sing, and fly and all that happy go lucky stuff.
Just don't tell anybody, ok.

Jennese 101

I feel sometimes like maybe people don't understand me. Which is why I think that maybe I don't speak English, I think maybe I speak Jennese.

Like when I say to my mother:

I think I'd like to lose some weight.

I think I'm saying:

So don't buy a bunch of really yummy stuff that I'm going to want to eat at the grocery store & put it in my fridge, put it in your fridge.

But what I think she hears is:

Jenn's on a diet & she won't eat anything I buy so she's going to go grocery shopping on her own.

Or when I say to my kid's:

We're in a hurry.

I think I'm saying:

We need to go. NOW.

But I think they hear:

Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

Or when I said to Bean:

I want to get another dog.

I thought I said:

I want to get a REAL dog, you know one that comes up to your knee or higher.

But I'm pretty sure that he heard:

I think I'd like a dachshund. (especially since we now have a dachshund)



Which is why it's so nice to have someone like my friend Miley around. Because she is fluent in Jennese. I never have to translate for her. I can send her some obscure email or text and she gets it.

Today I set her an email, because I read this headline:

Child Modeling: Apalling or Awesome?

only I didn't read "Child Modeling" I read "Child Molesting". But I didn't have to explain it to Miley, she totally got it, because she's an expert in Jennese.

I Don't Know Why.. AKA Pretty Fires

Bean & I work for the same company. He works nights as a dispatcher & I work days as an administrative assistant AKA office mommy.

"Where are the pencils Jenn, I need a pencil and I can't find one!!!!!"

"Did you look in the closet that I labeled 'Supply Closet' in large letters"

"No."

"See, that's where the pencils, and other supplies live."

"oh."

yup, office mommy. They keep threatening to make me a dispatcher, and I think that would be great, but only if I get to play bumper boats, and make pretty fires. At that point, they renege on the offer. I don't know why.

Anyway. Last night, while Bean was working, there was an "incident" so when he told me about it this is pretty much how the conversation went.

Bean: One of the boats had an accident.

Me: Oooohh.. Did it catch on fire?

Bean: No. Smooshed. Everyone is ok though.

Me: They never make fire. Was it your boat?

Bean: No. You're sad that it didn't catch on fire?

Me: Figures. Everyone else gets to play bumper boats.

Bean: ??

Me: Yeah!! I told them I would dispatch if I could make pretty fires!!





Bean stopped talking to me, I don't know why......

Fly

Actual conversation with Oliver this morning:

Me: Are you ready? (keep in mind that he is hiding behind his bed at this point)

Oliver: Yup.

Me: Have you brushed your hair?

Oliver: Yup.

Me: Teeth?

Oliver: Yup.

Me: Are you wearing shoes & socks?

Oliver: Yup.

Me: Pants?

stands up

Oliver: Yup.

Me: Is your fly zipped?

Oliver: (while trying to get into his fly) Well, since I can't play with my penis at the moment, I guess so.



I left the room, assuming he was ready.

Time to Chop

I feel the need for an impulsive and not very well planned haircut (that's redundant isn't it - oh well). I haven't really discussed this with Bean other than the occassional joke about chopping off all of my relatively long hair..
But I'm really feeling the need now..

I get bored really easily. And while some people get bored and go get a new tattoo (which I have done before - but those were thought out) or get drunk or go buy a car, I cut or dye my hair, and since I'm relatively happy with my color (other than the white peeking through) - it's time to chop.



I'll get back to you soon with the reaction, because I'm fairly certain that Monday will not find me with long flowing locks..

**Update - the impulse haircut is fabulous. Bean loves it - I'm brilliant.

Mad

Lately Oliver and I have become a little obsessed with "Alice in Wonderland".
He is because there's movie hype, and I always have been, he's just bringing it out and there's more stuff available, again, because of movie hype.

Last night the kids and I began the second half of a really good version of "Alice in Wonderland". It aired as a mini-series back in the stone age (according to my angels), but I really liked it then, and I like it better now.

This was an actual conversation during the credits:

Oliver: That's the Mad Hatter.

Tallulah: Why do they call him that?

Oliver: Because he's mad and he wears a hat.

mischevious pause

Oliver: Did you know that "mad" can mean two things? It can mean really angry or it can mean crazy like Mommy. If I had to pick, I'd rather be really angry.

Jennifer Juniper

Once upon a time my father used to sing to me the song "Jennifer Juniper".

Jennifer Juniper rides a dappled mare

Jennifer Juniper lilacs in her hair

I've never heard anyone else sing the song to know if his version was the right tune, and to the best of my knowledge that's not even the chorus, but to a five year old little girl, having a song named after her is the best feeling in the world, and not one that the correct version could possibly better.

Now I know that the song was obviously not named after me.. But part of me still hums that little portion of it to my father's tune and smiles.. Perhaps I was named after the song.