Tater Tot Casserole

Matt took a turn at cooking last night.  Usually I do the cooking. We take turns by weeks deciding what we’ll eat for supper the next week and doing the shopping list.  We’ve gotten pretty bored with the standard child menu (heavy on mac & cheese, hot dogs, chicken nuggets, carrots, PB&J, etc.) and were looking for something different.

The last time we tried a tater tot casserole, it didn’t make it past the kids.  They’re older now, he reasoned, and should be delighted to have some corn, beans, hamburger, cream of mushroom soup, and tater tots all heated through and thrown into a bowl. 

He put it together and put it in the oven.  We picked up the kids from daycare.  While the casserole was finishing, Matt & the kids went to watch For the Love of Benji (I watched it so many times in the past week that I begged to be the one to get supper out of the stove).  I dished some out for the kids, in their “big girl” bowls because they’ll no longer eat out of the kids’ plastic bowls but insist on using our regular dishes.  I made sure the taters were arranged neatly on top. I blew on them to cool them to just the right temp.  Set them on the table.  Matt herded them into the dining room. They practically ran into the room, they were so eager to eat supper.

As soon as they saw what was in their plates, their little faces dropped.  They both pushed them into the middle of the table.  Sam asserted, “I don’t like it!” in as plainly enunciated a sentence as has ever left her lips.  Jessie eventually ate one tot, but she didn’t seem too impressed.

So, we caved. They had Cheerios and raisins for supper.  If “you are what you eat” our kids will grow up to resemble giant beige rings or great big bunny turds.

Any suggestions on getting two-year-olds to eat something they haven’t tried before, or do they start doing that later? Or do we just keep putting it infront of them until we wear them down and they try it?

A Red Letter Day

January 27, 2010.

President Obama’s First State of the Union Address.

Apple annouced it’s iPad.

Sam and Jessie threw out their Binkies.

In that list of things, I think one was more important to us than the announcement was to Steve Jobs.

We’ve been talking about this forever. We’ve told them that when they are all done with their binkies and they throw them out, Santa will bring them a really big present.  Because Santa will know when they throw them out.

They also know that if the binky has a hole it in, they are supposed to throw it out.

And we’ve let them know that the binkies they have are The Last Ones. There are no replacement binkies.

Last night they were hungry just before bedtime, so we gave them some Cheerios and Gold Fish crackers in little tiny Tupperware containers.  They ate like they had never seen food before.  Matt & I were sitting in the kitchen, refilling their little containers and chatting with them.

Sammie started a little coversation that we’ve had a zillion times before.

“Jessie binkie hole. Two holes. Santa brink present. Binky all gone. Binky throw out.”

They’ve said this a lot, with the implication that the binky would be thrown out some time in the distant future.  We encouraged it because it would let them decide when they were ready to give them up.

Then she got serious. “Sammie binky hole.  Sammie throw out.”

And she walked over to the garbage and tossed in her binky before Matt or I could stop her.

“Do you know what you just did????! Sammie!  Do you know what this means?”

“Binkie ALL GONE.” and she nodded her head in great satisfaction.

Matt and I were trying to get our hearts started again.  We’d just spent one night up all night after an intruder and the next night with an uneasy sleep because the door was broken and wouldn’t latch, much less lock.  This was going to mean a number of sleepless nights.  She might have been ready to ditch the pacifier, but we clearly weren’t ready for it.

Listening to her little conversation, it was clear she was aware of the implications. There would be no more binkies. And Santa would bring her a present.

Jessie heard the ruckus and came out of the breakfast nook. When she realized what Sam had done, she wasn’t about to miss out on a present, so she chucked her binky into the garbage, too.

And Sam faced the kitchen door that leads to the back door and started shouting, “SANTA!!!  PRESENT, WHERE ARE YOU!!!”

We had some more discussion, just to make clear to them that they’d have to go to bed without binkies from now on. We also made it clear that they were very big girls and we were very proud of them.

At some point I snuck upstairs and came back down.

Then we went up for baths and bedtime.  Santa had left a really cool stuffed doggie in their beds!  He really does know these things.  They took quick baths then got into bed with their doggies.

They didn’t seem to miss the binkies falling asleep. They were really worked up about the new doggies. Jessie went to sleep rather quickly, but Sam just couldn’t stop talking.  Even when she ran out of things to say, her mouth kept running. No idea who she gets that from. I think she finally just passed out from exhaustion from flapping her jaw.

Jessie slept all night.  She was really moody this morning when she got up and didn’t have the binky, but she didn’t need it much any more anyway, so hopefully it won’t last long.

Sammie got up a million times last night, crying for her binky.  Matt (who is closer to the door) would go in and tell her that her binky was all gone, give her the dog to cuddle, and go back to bed.  15-20 minutes later she was crying again. 

I think we’ll be tired for a while, getting Sam to sleep through the night, but hallaluhia! it’s great to be rid of those annoying little binkies!  I’m sure in a week they’ll forget all about them.  Plus, they have really cool doggies from Santa.  I just wish I’d bought two of each since they were on sale.  We’ll probably wish we had backups for those, should they ever lose one.

2010

Well, we’re off to a very crappy start to the new year.

We’ve been sick since November.  I think we’ve all had a crappy cold that’s dragged on and on. We were all just getting over it a week or so ago when Jessie got croup and ended up in the ER for the night.  I’ve had a worse cold for the past week.  We’ve been getting no sleep at all.

Last week the Office of the State Employer announced that the folks in my union will have the honor of having 10 furlough days between the end of February and the beginning of July.  The six we had last summer were the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak, for selling our house.  Now we have ten more.  Great. And no showings of the house yet.

Well, wait, I take that back. We had one showing, unscheduled, last night at midnight. Some idiot broke down our front door, likely thinking it was empty because of the “for sale” sign out front.  We, of course, were home in bed.  Had he looked into the front windows next to the door he destroyed, he would have realized that we have nothing worth stealing.

He forced the door open, we’re assuming, with his shoulder. The deadbolt bent and the door cracked. The deadbolt hit the floor and Matt thought it was Jessie falling out of bed. He got up to put her back into bed.  He was about to our bedroom door when he heard the inner door on the entryway open and realized someone was coming in.  Not thinking it all the way through – and probably just thinking, “Hey, I’ve got two kids sleeping up here!!!” he flipped on the hallway light and went barrelling down the stairs.  By the time he got to the front door, the criminal had skedaddled.

I slept through it.  Charlie the cat woke me up afterwards. I looked at the clock, saw it was midnight,and wondered why on earth Matt thought something was important enough to make a call in the middle of the night and turn on the hall light to do it. Fer crying out loud, can’t work wait until tomorrow?? (not realizing that the library is not open at midnight)  I rolled over to go back to sleep, until I head a hissed whisper: Annie!!

I almost put the pillow over my head.

“Annie. Can you get up?”

(what, is he insane? I’m freakin’ sleeping here!)

“Can you get me some clothes before the cops come? Someone broke into the house”

WIDE AWAKE!!!!

The cop was very nice.  He checked around, did a report, and left.

We got back to bed around 2 a.m., me in bed and Matt on the couch, armed with his mag light flashlight. (It’s a guy thing. Seriously, how many women wouldn’t have just gone upstairs and slept in the closet with their hands on a phone?)  Just after 2am Jessie woke up.  We’d had broccoli for supper and she had bad gas.  Sat with her on me in a recliner for a while. Tried putting her back into her bed, she started to cry. Changed her diaper and had her come sleep in bed with me.  Matt took over on the recliner. Cats were left to guard the door.

Sam woke up around 4am.  She got into bed with me, Jessie went to sleep on Matt on the recliner.  Sam had no intention of sleeping. I was dead exhausted. Around 4:45 she decided she wanted Daddy to come sleep next to her. I explained Daddy was sleeping with Jessie on the chair. Sam’s very possessive of HER daddy and she just started to scream.

I had a bad Mom moment – I said “FU!” to the poor kid in the middle of the night. Jessie had just gotten back to sleep. Now we were all four wide awake, two of us were screaming, one of us was cursing, and I think Matt was about ready to laugh at the absurdity of it all.  Matt took the kids back to their beds and laid down on the floor until they fell asleep. Then he came back to bed. I think we fell asleep around 6am, after my alarm went off.  The kids slept until 7:30-ish, then we ran them into daycare so we could sit in peace to figure out what to do about a new door.

Turns out round-topped doors are hard to come by, especially on Mondays. All the salvage places are closed on Mondays.  We’re considering having someone make a new door, but then we need to find a way to secure the house in the meantime.  The old door isn’t so useful anymore.

And then there’s that 10% paycut coming in the next 10 paychecks and the deductible for the insurance that should be just about as much as it will cost to get a new door.

And it looks really bad when you’re trying to sell your house if the front door looks like it’s been kicked in.

Plus, since it won’t shut tight/latch closed, it’s really cold in here.

I am SOOOOO ready to move.  And just a little stressed out.

Is Ice Cream Genetic?

Hello, my name is Diane, and I’m an ice cream addict.

Hi, Diane.

I have loved ice cream for as long as I can remember.  I’m so fond of it, that I am currently trying to remodel my physique to resemble a scoop of ice cream on legs (and getting pretty close to that, too….).  Soft serve, hard scoop, in a cone, in a dish, with or without toppings….it’s all very good.  However, I won’t eat just any ice cream – it’s gotta be good! 

Ice cream is a Good Thing, but there are limits.  The kids don’t need all of that sugar and fat at their age, and I won’t let them get chubby. I was a skinny little kid and they will be skinny little kids. If they want to get fat, they can do it on their own time when they reach adulthood.  Or when they go to graduate school and have to live off mac & cheese and potatoes, like I did.  I refuse to fatten them up as kids and have them blame me for their obesity.

That off my chest, the kids have had ice cream as a treat on occasion.  They get a very little bit at a time.  Jessie is particularly fond of the Hudsonville Mint Chocolate Chip.  Our fridge has the freezer on the bottom, right within her reach.  Lately she’s been running to the freezer, pulling it open, hauling out the box of ice cream and walking around with it, saying, “Iwannicecream!”

You can’t always get what you want, and I make her put it back.  We finally moved the ice cream to the freezer in the basement.

Yesterday we got home from daycare and Matt, Sam, & I were in the back hallway getting our coats off.  Jess had already pulled her coat off in a hurry, ran into the kitchen, and slammed the door shut behind her. I had to get my boots off, which takes forever.  Figuring she was up to no good, I hurried.  Matt hurried.  Sam was the first one to get out of her winter clothes and into the kitchen.

Sam opened the door, and we peered in to see what distruction Jess had managed in the 10 seconds she was alone in the house.

There stood Jess, the freezer door open, staring into the mess that is our frozen food.

She turned to us, a question on her face, her palms raised to the ceiling in the universal two-year-old ‘I’m-asking-a-question-here’ body language, and said, “Icecream go?  Where go???”

Little Sammie supplied the answer: “Jessie ate. All gone.”

Glad to have an excuse, we lied to our child.  “Sorry, Jessie, you ate it all last night after supper. It’s all gone. Close the freezer door, please.”

Poor little sad thing.  She closed the door.  Sam was still repeating the “all gone. all gone. Jessie ate” refrain.  Matt & I stood out in the hallway, hanging up our coats, cracking up.  Matt was quick to point out that she was definately my kid.

You’ve gotta wonder how much of her ride home was preoccupied with thoughts of green ice cream on the other end of the ride.  Fortunately, she’s young enough to believe that the half scoop she’d had after supper the night before had finished off a brand-new box of ice cream.  Sam, on the other hand, is obviously someone else’s kid – she picks at her ice cream until it’s a pile of foamy warm milk and then we end up throwing it out.

And the Waiting Begins…

The house is on the market. The sign is in the front yard.  The lock box will be attached to the front door by the end of the week.

Know anyone who wants a house within walking distance of downtown Lansing?  In a fabulous neighborhood?

Sick kiddos

Sam came down with a cold a month ago – and we’re all still fighting it.  Yesterday Jessie was home from daycare because she had a fever – ear infection.  She was bouncing around and looking good this morning, so she went back to daycare.  I got a call just before lunch that Sam had a fever and had been sitting on a bean bag chair all morning crying.  Of course, by the time I got there, she was happy as could be and talking a mile a minute.  Matt took her to the clinic, but they couldn’t find anything wrong with here – by that time she didn’t have a fever and couldn’t even cough for them.  She has to stay out of daycare for 24 hours because of the fever, so we’ll be taking turns staying home with her tomorrow.  And we’ve got a pediatrician appointment to check her over, just in case.

So, yesterday Matt was home with Jessie in the morning and got her into the pediatrician.  They give out stickers there and the kids just live for that. I guess it beats giving out the flavored-sugar-on-a-stick that we got when we were kids, or the little toy that was plastic and just right for swallowing.  Still, who gives a two-year-old something that can be permanently affixed to the car door while you’re driving home?

Anyway, Jessie scored big yesterday and got two stickers.  I was home for the afternoon, and shortly before Matt got home with Sammie, I suggested that Jessie put her stickers away so that Sam wouldn’t feel bad that she didn’t have any.  So, Jessie, like a good kid, took her stickers and hid them under something in the breakfast nook.

They’re so cute together.  She heard the car come home and ran to the door to see Sammie.  She could barely contain herself as Matt got Sam out of the car and carried her in.  Matt dropped Sammie off at the back door and then went back out to the car for the pizzas they’d picked up (I’d planned mac & cheese for supper, but since we gave Jessie that for lunch, and I was too tired/lazy to come up with an alternative, we just got pizza. Gotta live it up sometimes!).  As soon as Sam was out of her hat and coat, the two embraced in a great big hug, pounding each other on the back.  There was a lot of happy hollering of the other’s name.  Then another big back-slapping hug session.  You’d think they’d been apart for years.  Then Jess ran off. I assumed she was going back to the coloring she was in the middle  of when Matt & Sam came home. Nope. She came back with her prized stickers and gave Sammie one.

Talk about your proud parents.  We were so impressed!  We congratulated the heck our of her and exclaimed what  a good girl she was.  Matt held out his arms to hug her as she walked past him on her way to the table for “pizzi.”  She reached out a hand, took his, and very seriously shook his hand and kept on walking.  The little goof.  We didn’t realize she knew what a hand shake was.

Santa’s Lap

Saturday afternoon we took the kids to the mall. They have a “real beard” Santa there.  I assumed the lines would be too long to actually go sit on his lap, but at least the kids could get a peak at him and see that he’s real (and not just a 9-foot blow-up guy in the foyer at daycare).  We must’ve come at a good time – there was no line at all.  There were a couple of kids who were about to go see him and no one at all behind them.  Quickly, we took off their coats and ducked under the line ropes.  When the kids ahead of us left, we boldly walked up to Santa, me holding Jessie’s hand and Sam following behind with Daddy.

And the kids froze up.  Jessie just stood there, staring at him.  She leaned away.  He asked if she could give him a high five, trying to break the ice and get her to maybe warm up to him. She backed up further.  It was pretty clear she wasn’t going to get that close to some strange old geezer with a beard.  There was a line starting to form, so we said bye-bye to Santa and left.

As soon as we were out of the Santa Area, and new kids were already on his lap, Jessie regretted her shyness.  She hollered, “Santa!!! Santa!!! Santa lap!!!!!!” and tried to run back in to see him. It was so sad.  It took quite a bit to get the screaming kid into her coat and back out of the mall. She was really devastated.  (Sam didn’t so much care one way or the other)  She was sad all the way home.

So, we talked about it quite a bit and told her if she were good we could go back on Sunday to see him.  Sunday came and we kept mentioning that we were going to see Santa after lunch and naptime, and that they were going to be brave and sit on his lap.  She was so excited.  Too excited. It took her a while hour to settle down for a nap, even though she was just absolutely exhausted, and even after we threatened that if she didn’t take a nap, she wouldn’t go see Santa.

After naptime, we changed into new Christmas clothes.  I re-did their hair into cute little pigtails.  We got into the car and headed for the mall, Jessie telling us at every turn that we had to go see Santa.

When we got there, Santa had just left for his break. There was a long line.  We thought maybe he was coming back soon, so we got into the line.  The line grew and grew and grew. Eventually Santa came back.  All in all, we spent about an hour in line with a couple of hopped up two-year olds.  They were feeding off the frenzy of the kids in line around us.  By the time we got towards the front of the line, they were completely wound up.  Right about the time we were third from the front, Jessie realized that we were Almost There.  She stopped running and jumping around and stood perfectly still, hands folded in front of her, game face on.  Total focus.  She didn’t take her eyes off the Santa chair.  She was completely and totally set for that.

It was our turn. We ordered a 5″ x 7″ picture.  We walked over to Santa.

And Jessie took a step back.

Still had her hands folded in front of her. Eyes big as saucers.

Santa asked her for a high five.

Jessie put her right hand behind her.

She took a step back.

She couldn’t do it. The Jolly Elf was just too scary.

We left.  Took a complementary coloring book from Kodak.

And as soon as we were out of the Santa Area and the next kids were on Santa’s lap, Jessie was screaming, “Santa!!!!!! Santa lap!!!!!!!!!!!!”

It was even more difficult to get her out of the mall that time. If I’d let my grip slip on her, she would have raced back, shoved the people in line aside, crawled between their legs, and run over to a very startled Santa.

It was just so sad.  After I put her to bed, she couldn’t settle down.  She sat there in the dark, for almost half an hour, repeating a couple of little phrases.

“Jessie no sit Santa lap.”

“Jessie no high five Santa.”

And I promised her that next year she’d be braver and would sit on his lap and give him a high five.

What’s for Supper?

Supper at Chez Pacer-Tuinstra.  The kids insist on sitting next to Daddy (“Next!!  Next Daddy!!”) They also insist that Pooh and Eeyore watch them eat. (“Pooh Eeyore watching!”)

That leaves me sitting awkwardly alone at the far end of the table.

(Each kid comes equipped with her own Pooh & Eeyore. Other accessories sold separately.)

Chatterboxes

The kids have pretty decent vocabularies, and every so often they surprise us with something.  Last night I was watching Curious George with the kids after supper and the neighbor was fixing George’s front bike wheel.  Jessie, out of the blue, said “hammer.  hammer.  hammer.”  Not sure where she saw a hammer and learned its name, since we generally don’t leave those lying around the house.

Mostly the kids talk in 2-3 word mini-sentences.  Either subject-verb, or object-verb.  Last  night, after they were in bed, Jessie got out an entire 5-word sentence. I was so excited, I congratulated her for her little speech, and she repeated it several times, almost as proud of herself as I was.

What did she say?

“Sammie, no chew your binkie.”*

OK, so the grammar wasn’t correct and the topic was the evil binkies, but hey! it was still exciting.

Sammie is still doing 2-3 words max strung together, but she comes up with these complex little tales and tries to get it all out and then finds she doesn’t have all the words she needs, so she goes in circles with the words she does have until she can come up with what she needs or until one of us supplies it for her.  You can just see the little wheels turning in her head as she’s trying to get the whole story out, complete with hand gestures.

Once they get even more words and can really string some thoughts together, Matt & I may never get another word in.  They really chatter a lot and feel obligated to comment on absolutely everything.

* They’ve been chewing holes in their binkies lately, and when one gets a hole in it, we make them throw them away. We’ve told them that once they’re all broken, there won’t be any more.  Santa’s off the hook.  They kids will likely chew through all the binkies before Xmas at the rate they’re going.

Santa Claus Giveth…

…and Santa Claus taketh away.

We’ve been telling the kids that Santa Claus will be coming soon. And he’s going to take away their binkies (because they’re big girls and don’t need them any more) and give them to the little babies at daycare who DO need them.

As soon as you mention Santa now, if Sam has a binkie, she’ll pull it out and hand it to someone and say, “All done.”

For the most part, they’re down to just using the binkies when they’re in bed.  They also get them when they’re sick, and since they were both sick over Thanksgiving weekend, they’ve had them a bit more over the last few days than they usually do.

So, every so often, while we’re hanging out, Sammie will out of the blue say, “Santa Claus coming.”

“Yes, Sam, Santa Claus is coming soon.”

“Binkies away.”

“Yes, Sam, he’s going to take the binkies away and give them to the little babies and bring you presents.”

The other night as I was sitting around thinking about that, it occurred to me that they really don’t understand abstractions as well as adults.  And that we’re unlikely to find a real Santa Claus that will come over and accept a handful of binkies.  And that it would be really difficult to explain to the Mall Santa why our kids just handed him a dozen binkies.

So, if anyone has a good solution for getting two-year-olds to believe that Santa really came and took their binkies to unfortunate babies who couldn’t afford their own binkies, please let me know.

And the kids aren’t as gullible as one might think.  We’ve been putting THUM on their binkies during the day.  It’s a cayenne pepper extract and it’s nasty! Sam wants nothing to do with daytime binkies and her favorite refrain these days is “binkie ucky!” (She even was singing a song about it one day) Jessie just makes a face, pulls the binkie out, gives it a dirty look, and pops it back in her mouth.  Kid’s got an asbestos tongue, I swear.

The other day Jessie was sitting on the kitchen counter, and she absent-mindedly picked up the bottle of Thum.  She looked at it and said, “Binky yucky” – this in spite of the fact that we’ve done everything possible to disguise the fact that Matt & I are putting something onto the binkie before we give it to them.  She’s a pretty sharp little kid.

So, anyone got a connection to Santa that we could use?

Treehuggers

Tree’s up!

We haven’t had a tree up and decorated since 2005.  In 2006 we had a very crazy little kitten who threatened to undecorate it for us, so we set up the tree but didn’t decorate it.  2007 we had two little infants who wanted bottles every couple of hours.  They pooped a lot, too.  We decided a tree was a luxury we could do without that year.  Last year the kids were newly mobile. We set the tree up, but never put the decorations on because we didn’t think they’d stay on very long.

On Sunday we put the tree up during the kids’ naptime. It’s a pre-lit humongo very-real-looking fake tree.  They came down from their nap and were just thrilled. Sammie did a little singing and jumped up and down, she was so excited. She also aimed kisses at it.  Jessie gave it a great big hug.   We decorated it after they went to bed that night, and they were even just as excited to see it with cool, breakable balls on it the next morning.

We had planned to put it up Thanksgiving night, but Jessie and Matt spent the night in the ER. She had croup and by the middle of the night was having breathing problems.  She was finally looking much better this morning when she got up.

Manners

We’ve been diligent about teaching the kids to say “please” and “thank you.”  Daycare is pretty strict about that, too.  As a result, the kids are developing great little manners and say “thank you” every time someone hands them something.

And we’ve been working harder on “you’re welcome” now that they’ve got the “please” and “thank you” part down. Perhaps a little too hard.  Jessie has now decided to just skip all the extra nonsense, and when someone gives her something, she very sincerely says, “I welcome.”

Makes sense if you’re two.

In the “be careful what you ask for” category-

Someone brought on the holidays.

Jessie woke up Thanksgiving morning with a slightly croupy cough.  We debated back and forth, but she was feeling pretty good, so we went to Toledo. She was fine while we were there.  Sfter we left she got worse, and in the middle of the night she couldn’t breath, so Matt took her in to the ER. They got home sometime before 6 the next morning.  Great start to the holiday season.

She’s doing better. Her voice comes and goes and she has a nasty cough, but her breathing has been pretty good since she got home from the ER.  She has periods of great crabbiness and then gets these spurts of energy and runs around like an idiot.  And then she starts coughing. But trying to get her to settle down and just sit is futile.

We were going to put the Christmas tree up on Friday, but since none of us had much sleep the night before, that didn’t happen.  Matt had to work this afternoon and the kids wouldn’t settle down for a nap, so I’m too worn out to do it tonight.  Maybe tomorrow.  Or at least just sometime before Christmas.

Bring on the Holiday Season!

This’ll be the first year we really do Christmas for the kids.  It’s their third Christmas, but the first one they just drooled through and last year they were old enough to reach the tree and just young enough to undecorate it, so we put up the tree (pre-lit) but never decorated it.  This year they understand, “No! Do not touch that ornament or I’ll put you in Time Out until you’re 30!!!!” Of couse, that doesn’t mean they’ll listen to us, but at least they’ll be aware that they probably shouldn’t be chasing one of the cats up the tree.  Fortunately, they’re also too young to be able to count how many presents they’re getting, because it won’t be a whole lot.  They have plenty of stuff already to play with and they spend most of their days at daycare – we couldn’t possibly hope to compete with the fun and activity level of daycare.

Sister Marci gave us a bunch of her kids’ outgrown toys when the kids arrived.  We’ve been taking them out of the basement every-so-often and giving them to the kids (the toys are in the basement, not the kids, just in case that wasn’t totally clear).  One of the items was a Bob the Builder doll with a jackhammer.  He talks when you push the button on the jackhammer.  He’s been renamed Bruce, after Bruce the guy who fixed our house so we could put it on the market.  Jessie’s big expression for the last month has been “Bruce fix.”  When Bob first said something, it was, “Can we fix it? Yes we can!”  To go with Bruce the Fixer Matt picked up a cheap Bob the Builder dvd at the grocery store the other night.  The kids got a big kick out of watching it and saying “Bruce!”  I expect that the real Bruce would be pretty happy about that.  (And if anyone in Lansing needs the phone number of a really good fix-it guy, email me.  This guy is fabulous!)

The realtor was over on Friday.  The numbers he came back with were pretty much what we expected. As Sister Marci said, we’ll lose our shirts, we’ll just be happy if we don’t also lose our pants when we sell it.  We’ll be listing it right after the new year.  If you know anyone looking for three bedrooms within walking distance of downtown Lansing, have them give us a call.

I Suppose It Was Inevitable…

nevertheless, it was painful.

We went grocery shopping Sunday morning.  The kids have discovered the “horsey” at Meijers.  They have a mechanical horse that the kids can ride for a penny.  It’s great for getting the kids to behave at the store, because only good girls get to ride the horsey.

Anyway, Matt was paying for the groceries and I was supervising the horse rides.  The horse is located right at the end of one of the self-check-out lanes.  The guy who was buying a bunch of stuff at that lane walked around the horse to get to the bagging area so he could stick his stuff into his cart.  He looked familiar.  It was the guy who ran the snack shop in at work for the past year or so. A week ago they took over the snack shop at the Capitol.  I asked him how the new place was going.  It was going well.  His wife, who was paying, looked up and said hi.

And then it happened.  THE question.

“Are those your grandkids?”

Ouch.

No amount of “Your kids are adorable!” can make up for “you look like an old hag.”

To make it worse, about a week earlier I had met Matt at the downtown Chinese place for lunch.  They’ve got a really good buffet.  Turns out he was a regular there and the older lady who rang us out was quite fond of him and was chatting him up as he was paying.

She should have stopped before she asked, “Is that your mom?”

I’m not sure if I need more sleep or if I need a good makeover.